Spectrum
by EllieShelly
Summary: Years after they said hasty goodbye, Cuddy needs House's help. Driving across the country with only her mind, her daughter and few letters to guide her, she searches for the one man that she could never truly forget. HUDDY.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: For the sake of the story, I'm going to screw with some ages. Even though Rachel is fifteen, Cuddy and House are around 45 and 52. If TPTB can mess with ages (Cuddy's 38 end of season 5, 43 beginning of season 7 :/) Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Cuddy poked Rachel's back as the light of the early evening filtered through the curtains. Rachel had just got back from the pool where she had a summer job as a lifeguard. This was her second summer, and the white letters of 'lifeguard' stood out against the red of her bathing suit. The teenager whipped round as she felt the pad of a finger hit her shoulder. "Mom," Rachel hissed, "what are you doing?"<p>

"Ssh," Cuddy whispered. "Honey, get up. We're leaving."

"What? Why?" Rachel implored.

"Because..." Cuddy glanced around, as if looking for someone. "Honey, he hit me."

"What?" Rachel said, anger lacing her tone. "He _hit _you?"

"He's done it before, but it was only a little tap. Like, if you were messing around and misjudged the distance. But, this time," Cuddy rubbed the red mark on her cheek, "he meant it. He was trying to hurt me."

"He's been _hitting _you?" Rachel repeated, shocked. "Mom! Why didn't you tell me?"

"You didn't need to know," Cuddy explained. "It was nothing."

"I live with him!" Rachel countered. "I have a right to know if he's slapping you around!"

"Don't talk like that," Cuddy chastised. "Look, I'm done. I've done physical violence before and I'm not getting trapped in that spiral again. We're leaving."

Rachel widened her eyes. "Now?"

Cuddy nodded, as if still trying to convince herself. "Right this second."

Rachel stared for a second. This wasn't her mother. But she only had to look at the determination in her eyes to see that her mom wasn't kidding around. They were about to pack up and leave.

"Okay," Rachel said slowly. "Let me grab a jacket."

Cuddy kissed her daughter's forehead. "I don't deserve you," she muttered, pulling Rachel close. "Don't bring anything," she warned. "We're driving."

"Driving where, mom?" Rachel asked, as her mother exited the room.

"To see an old friend," Cuddy called back, and Rachel heard her running downstairs and opening the front door.

Rachel grabbed a pair of shorts out of the wardrobe and shimmied them on. As she ran down to join Cuddy, she thought about who they were leaving. She'd always hated Lucas. She was aware of some small history between him and her mother, but still, she'd never quite warmed up to him, not in the three years they'd been dating.

She swore that her mom didn't even love him. She said she did, but Rachel remained unconvinced. If _that _was love, then Rachel wasn't sure that she wanted to look for it.

He'd been _hitting _her.

Rachel stood in the lobby, looking at the living room. She saw a note on the counter, covered by the engagement ring her mother had been wearing for the past two years, having refused to start planning the wedding.

Rachel glanced at the message Cuddy had hurriedly scrawled. _Don't follow us. _

Rachel ran out over the porch, slamming the door as hard she could before sliding into the seat beside Cuddy.

* * *

><p>They drove in silence for a while, Rachel hanging her feet out of the car window, letting the warm summer air tickle her toes.<p>

Cuddy had her hands gripped tightly on the wheel, knuckles white against the plastic covering. The radio was blaring some song, but Rachel knew her mother wasn't hearing it.

"Where are we going?" Rachel asked.

"I told you; to see a friend of mine," Cuddy repeated.

"But, where?" Rachel persisted, letting her dark locks out of their ponytail and into the wind. "You know where you're going, right?"

"Of course I know," Cuddy sighed. "I just need to find a payphone," she murmured, scouring the side of the road with her eyes.

"Don't you have yours?" Rachel asked, shocked. On the best of days, her mother was still surgically attached to the mobile device.

"Left it," Cuddy shrugged.

"But what if something happens at work?" Rachel continued. "What if they need you? They won't be able -"

"Honey, over the last decade I must've spent more time in that place than out of it," Cuddy cut in smoothly. "I just need a _break._"

"You can't just leave," Rachel pointed out.

"That's why I need to find a phone," Cuddy answered. "To call Wilson. He'll handle things until we get back."

Rachel sank back in her seat. "This isn't like you," she muttered, though not maliciously.

"Sometimes," Cuddy started, but then paused. "Sometimes you just can't deny everything anymore," she said cryptically, pulling over as she saw a phone.

Leaving Rachel in the car, Cuddy made a quick call to Wilson. She didn't give him time to reply, just told him to take care of things for a while and then hung up.

She pushed another stack of quarters into the machine, preparing herself to hear a voice she'd hadn't heard in years. The number was still - and Cuddy wasn't sure if this was fortunate or crazy - imprinted in her memory.

"Hello?" A gruff voiced answered.

"It's Cuddy," she said briskly. "House, I need your help."

"Long time," he drawled, alerted to the identity of the caller, "to go without speaking to someone and then demand something from them."

"You don't know what I need yet," she pointed out, glancing to Rachel in the front seat. She was staring.

"But I can infer from the word 'your' that you'll need _me _to do something. And, gee, I'm not sure if I want to help the woman who drove me out of state," House continued, his voice gleeful.

"You left. I didn't drive you out," she said through gritted teeth.

"Let's pretend that's true. So," he said conversationally, "what do you need?"

She hesitated. "Somewhere to go," she said finally. There was a silence on the other end of the line before House's voice came back.

"And what do I get in return?"

Cuddy thought. "You get to know that I've taken Rachel and we are about to drive all the way across the country with almost no money, no clean clothes and no idea of what we're doing, a plan I only decided on about an hour ago. Rachel also had no idea about any of this, except that we're driving _somewhere_. I'm abandoning the hospital to Wilson, and I haven't got any means of communication with me. You get to know that _now. _Give me a place to go, and when we get there, you get to know _why._" She smirked into the handset. "Turn me away now, and this puzzle will drive you crazy."

House leaned back in his chair. "You're a wild card," he mused aloud. "And so far, I've never quite been able to figure you out."

"Is that a yes?" She hoped.

"Hate to deny myself the chance to try," he finished his earlier thought. "Fine."

"Thank you," she admitted, relaxing a little. "You still in California?"

"Naturally," he replied. "Sun, sea and sluts. Why would I leave?"

"You don't live near the sea," she reminded.

"Fine. Sun and sluts. Two out of three, excellent. And no sand in my crotch." He paused. "I'm still in Apple Valley," he continued. "I know you know where to find me."

"We'll be there..." Cuddy calculated, "in a few days?"

"Don't race," he suggested. "Tell you what, take the scenic route. I'll guide you."

Cuddy frowned. "You'll have no means of contacting me," she pointed out.

"People these days seem to forget the power of the written word," he said, seemingly to himself but for Cuddy's ears as well. "Go to Michigan. There's only one post office that you could consider going to. There'll be something waiting for you," he promised. Then, he hung up.

Cuddy, in a daze, stumbled back to the car. Rachel stared at her. "Mom?"

"We're going to Michigan," she revealed to Rachel. "And picking up a letter. I think," she added as an afterthought.

"Michigan," Rachel repeated. "What is there in Michigan?"

"Not sure," Cuddy replied. "But I guess we're going to find out."

* * *

><p>The pair sped along the motorway, music blaring and stomachs rumbling. They'd been driving all day, the air con doing little to keep them cool, and Cuddy pulled over to a small roadside motel. "Sweet dreams," she said to Rachel, who looked equally confused.<p>

After getting themselves a room for one night, Cuddy paying for a room with a fifty in her back pocket, they raided the vending machine for as many sugary snacks as they could carry with the change. Setting themselves up on one of the two beds, sharing sweets, Rachel turned to her mother. "You said that you'd seen violence before," she said quietly. "What did you mean?"

Cuddy stilled. "You don't need to hear it," she stroked Rachel's hair back from her face. "It was a long time ago."

"Mom, I've dropped everything and jumped in a car to drive to Michigan, of all places, and who knows where on from there. I'm _trusting _you when you say that you've got a 'friend' for us to stay with, and when you say you know what you're doing. The least you can do is tell me why," she finished.

Cuddy nodded. "I forget you're so grown up," she murmured. She looked Rachel right in the eye before saying slowly but surely, "it was my dad."

"Nothing _too _bad, but, when you're seven..." She tailed off. "Nana always said that he loved me _too _much. And, even at seven, I didn't believe her. It wasn't anything dramatic, like I lost my childhood, but it was enough to make me instantly run from anything that even I couldn't pretend was soft enough to be an accident."

"Sometimes I don't think he even thought he was doing anything wrong," she continued. "It was a different time, a different attitude. My father just didn't... think."

Rachel just looked at her. "I'm sorry, mommy," she said slowly, resting her head on the groove where Cuddy's neck met her shoulder. "It's not fair," she said sadly.

"Gave me a fighting spirit though," Cuddy smiled, trying to uplift her daughter. "God, I doubt you'll remember this, but, when you were about four, I was seeing a guy called Daniel. Took me ages to let him even sleep over, but quickly he was practically living with us. Anyway, one night I got home late, and I saw him sneaking out of your room. Sure, it could've been him calming you down from a bad dream but I'd spoken to Marina just twenty minutes ago and you'd been fine. Anyway, you were always a good sleeper. I went a little mental, though first I asked him what he'd been doing. He said that Marina had asked him to put a pile of clean clothes in your room earlier and he'd left his phone in there. I checked, no phone. So I went crazy. I was so convinced that he'd been, I don't know, doing _things _to you. Screaming, shouting, broke a rib and two teeth and I told him to get out. That someone else could get his things. It wasn't until two weeks after he'd been long gone that I discovered his phone down the side of your dresser. Up until that point, I'd been too afraid to ask you about it. Then, I did. You smiled, and said that Daniel had never been in your room and that I was silly." Cuddy kissed Rachel's forehead. "I would kill a man for you, know that?"

"I do now," Rachel replied, impressed. "Go mom."

"I hate violence, I was brought up with it, but should there ever be a time when it's warranted, I know how to use it," Cuddy continued. "There's one good thing."

Rachel drank the last of the coke from the can. "Mom," she sat up straight, "I'd follow _you,_ _anywhere, _in a heartbeat. Know why?"

"Why?" Cuddy asked, feeling a rush of love hit her, watching the animation in her daughter's eyes.

"Because, even before hearing that story, I knew that no matter what, you'd protect me. Can't help but feel nervous that we're leaving everything on a mystery trip, but if someone would look after me, I know it'd be you." Rachel smiled, getting into the other bed and pulling the blankets up.

"That's what moms are for, sweetie," Cuddy yawned.

Rachel waited until she thought Cuddy was asleep. She watched the moonlight trace the contours of her mother's face. It had never bothered her that they didn't look alike. It had never bothered her that they weren't _related. _They were still mother and daughter, through and through, regardless of DNA. Rachel felt comforted, knowing that their relationship wasn't one her mother was biologically bound to. No, she'd been _chosen. _

And that just made Rachel love her mother even more.

* * *

><p>As the sun rose the next morning, Cuddy woke. Years of setting her alarm to before sunrise had given her a body clock that ran like clockwork. Five thirty, every morning. She got out of the uncomfortable mattress and stretched, glancing at her reflection in the dirtied mirror.<p>

She was wearing his shirt.

It had been the only thing she'd grabbed before they'd left, out of the bottom drawer. Baby blue and comfortably washed, even though it had lost its smell, it reminded her of him. Shrugging the shorts from yesterday back on, Cuddy brushed a hand through her curls. Tracing the developing bruise, she sneered.

_Why _she'd gone back to _him _she'd never know. It wasn't like it'd been a rebound from House, no, she'd hadn't got back with Lucas until Rachel was twelve. It had been a calculated decision.

So had accepting his proposal, for the second time. She shook her head. A part of the story she'd left out so far was how, after the punch, she slapped him round the face, punched him in the gut and kicked him in the balls before growling as he left, muttering "crazy bitch," under his breath.

If she had her way, she'd never see him again. However, being a private investigator (and not a horrible one at that) Cuddy knew that he'd find them. That's why she'd left all her cards, her phone, and was toying with the idea of swapping the car.

She wasn't running _permanently. _At least, she hadn't decided that yet. She wasn't afraid, she just knew that when she went back to New Jersey, there'd be questions, quests for answers and just _stress. _

She wanted a week, maybe two, where none of it _mattered. _

Then why, she chuckled inwardly at her own thought, was she choosing to spend it with House? She'd promised him an explanation of her impromptu trip when they got there, but she knew he'd never leave her alone until she recounted every passing moment since they'd last seen each other.

Which was, God, a year after the break up. When House had, without warning, divorced Dominika, resigned and moved to Apple Valley, California. She had no idea what he was doing now - she wasn't even sure _Wilson _knew, but if he did, they'd never discussed it. Cuddy had to close the diagnostics department. She didn't know for sure, but she thought that in the long run that had saved her money. Contrary to House's belief, most of the donations she received were _not _due to his department.

Cuddy couldn't deny that she missed him. Not just his presence as a boyfriend, but as a doctor, as a _friend. _It had been too long, she thought wistfully. And every time she thought of him, she'd ask herself the same question: _did I make a mistake? _

She hadn't really _loved _since him. Lust, fine. The _want _for love, of course. But that unbridled passion, that heat, she'd never recreated that with anyone.

That's what she was looking for. The moments, the _feelings _that House gave her, she needed. She needed the clarity he had to tell her what to do. She was _stuck. _Her job, that she once loved, no longer excited her. Her boyfriend, to use Rachel's language, was "slapping her around." Something, _anything, _had to change.

Looking at her daughter, hair mussed around her face, Cuddy wondered if she was doing the right thing. Dragging your child along for your mid-life crisis would certainly not be recommended in any parenting handbook. Rachel deserved more than what Cuddy was offering at home - she wanted to give her daughter _experience. _A time that she would remember as something unlike she'd ever seen, and she'd know her mother was a different person. She wanted to _know _her daughter.

Picking her way to the bedside, she stroked Rachel's forehead. "Time to go," she whispered.

"It's sleep time," Rachel muttered. "Go away."

"Honey, I want to miss the traffic," Cuddy cooed. "We can pick up some breakfast on the way."

"I hate you," she whined, but kicked the covers off. She was still in her bathing suit and she hooked her shorts off the carpet with her toe. "I can't believe the only things I have with me are _these,_" she frowned.

"You look cute," Cuddy smiled. "And _responsible. _My daughter, the lifeguard."

"Not as impressive as it sounds. Mainly involves me watching three olds flail in the shallow end," Rachel shrugged. She looked in the mirror. "One day, and I already look a tramp."

"Ssh," Cuddy scoffed. "You look beautiful. I'm the one who challenges Medusa on a bad hair day."

Rachel was about to counter that, but she stopped when she noticed her mother's attire. "We're leaving him," she said slowly, "and you're wearing his shirt?"

Cuddy sighed. "It's not like that," she promised. She couldn't reveal it was House's - she wasn't ready to have that conversation yet.

"I never liked him," Rachel said, gaze steely. "Creepy eyes."

"He wasn't that bad," Cuddy tried to salvage, but since a part of her agreed she couldn't put much feeling into it.

"He was," Rachel replied. "Even you know that."

"Love does crazy things to a person," Cuddy murmured, opening the door and walking out to the car.

"Give me a break mom," Rachel said. "You didn't love him _that _much, if at all."

"I didn't say loving Lucas made me crazy," Cuddy smiled, turning on the ignition. "I said _love. _And I've loved more than one person in my life."

Rachel accepted that, but couldn't keep her mouth shut for long. "Do you think you can honestly, truly, love more than one person? I don't mean family, or children. I mean _love. _Do you believe that it can happen more than once?"

Cuddy thought. "I think," she started, "that you will love more than one person, but they'll always be someone who you love _most._"

"What if you choose the wrong person?" Rachel asked.

"Then you chase them," Cuddy told her, without hesitation. "If you're sure."

Rachel nodded. She fiddled with the radio dial and opened the window, even the morning air burning her face it whipped past.

Cuddy continued to drive, watching as they went further and further away from New Jersey. The scenery began to change. Cuddy had lied to Rachel - she did know what there was in Michigan. Just as she knew that House was right; there was only one post box she'd think to go to.

"House," she said aloud, catching Rachel's attention. "His name is House."

"Who's name?"

"My friend," she revealed. "The one we're going to see." There was a tense silence a few minutes longer as Rachel thought about it.

"House," she tried it out for size. "Funny."

"Surname," Cuddy elaborated. "Gregory," she continued in bursts, seeming unable to string more than a few words coherently in a sentence. She realised it was because she was _nervous. _

With her and Rachel practically speaking in monosyllables, Cuddy couldn't help but feel like their relationship was regressing. She deliberated in her head for another moment before saying, "are you happy?"

Rachel pulled her face back from the open window. "Sure," she said, confused. "I guess."

Cuddy gripped the steering wheel tightly. "Could I do more?" She asked. "For you. Is there anything you want, or need, or -"

"Mom, stop," Rachel shushed. "You're freaking out."

"I'm not, I'm -"

"It's okay," Rachel smiled. "You've abandoned everything to come on a road trip with me and visit the mysterious _House. _It's okay if you freak."

"I'm _not _freaking," she said adamantly, speeding up as they turned onto an emptier highway. "I'm serious."

"Then, sure, I'm very happy," Rachel replied. "Happy as a clam."

"You mean that?" Cuddy asked, and Rachel realised from the change in tone that this was a serious question. That she was searching for a real answer.

"Yes," Rachel replied, with as much sincerity as she could muster. "Mom, you know I am. There is nothing in my life that I could not be happy about."

"Lucky you, being fifteen," Cuddy smirked. "Not a care in the world."

"Not a care? Mom, are you kidding? _You're _the lucky one. You've handled everything, you _know _that you've achieved _something. _You've been to college and got a job and become, like, hospital royalty. I've got to worry about grades and admissions essays and all that stuff. You've _done _it," Rachel said.

"But I don't have my whole life ahead of me," Cuddy countered. "You can be anything. I've got to deal with the choices I made."

"You're not _dying,_" Rachel scoffed. "You have _plenty _of time to make new choices."

"If only it were that easy," Cuddy muttered, and the drive continued in silence.

* * *

><p>"Mom," Rachel whined as they crossed the border into Michigan state, "I'm about to die."<p>

"Oh hush," Cuddy scoffed. "Nearly there."

"Of _hunger,_" Rachel groaned, flipping over so her head was in the foothold of the seat and her feet were draped over the headrest. "Seriously, that no money plan may have had a flaw."

"We've got a couple dollars left," Cuddy told her. "We can stop, and I'll _selflessly _let you buy something to eat. I'll starve." She winked. "Honey, I know what I'm doing. Give me another hour and we'll be having a full three course meal."

"Oh yeah?" Rachel challenged. "How're you going to manage that?"

Cuddy smiled. "Another old friend," she replied cryptically.

"I'm hearing a lot about all of these _so called _'friends' but really, I have yet to meet one. Mom, if you're just kidding and we're heading into nothingness, I promise, I will kill you." Rachel warned.

Cuddy smirked and kept driving, no roadside bathroom breaks until they'd reached her old university campus. "Ta-da," she said to Rachel, who was looking in awe.

"Your _college?_" Rachel said in disbelief. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," Cuddy smiled. "Trust me, after four years here, I have a few old friends." She got out of the car, beckoning Rachel to come with her. Rachel scrambled out, looking around with wide eyes.

"Can't believe that you were a _freshman _once," she shook her head.

Cuddy smiled at her daughter's reaction. As she walked back onto campus she checked everything that had changed, and everything that was still the same. It was a blend of past and present mashed into one - and Cuddy remembered talking, laughing, loving in all these places, with people who were long gone. She smiled.

She took them inside and asked someone where Professor Lamb was - hoping to herself that he was still teaching - and had been delighted when they'd directed her to his office.

Rachel was still following, standing quietly as her mother navigated the corridors from memory - only messing up twice. It wasn't until they were outside his door that Rachel noticed her mother tucking her shirt back into her shorts, smartening herself up.

"I've only got a _bathing suit _and these tiny shorts," she hissed. "What's he going to think of me?"

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "You look perfect, sweetheart. Stop fussing," she added. "He'll be interested in what you have to _say, _not what you look like."

As Rachel shook her head Cuddy turned around and knocked on the door. There was a fumbling inside before an elderly man answered, eyes brightening when he saw his visitors. "Lisa!" He crowed, sweeping her up with ease.

"Professor Lamb," she smiled back into his shoulder.

He ushered them into his office, and for the next half hour he talked with Cuddy almost non-stop, asking about her life now, since college, talking about his. He asked about Rachel, talked to Rachel, and it wasn't until Rachel's stomach growled loud enough that they could all hear that he stopped.

"Girl," he turned to her, "you sound like you could use some lunch."

Cuddy tried not to laugh at the sigh of relief from Rachel. "I so could," she said breathlessly. "Like you wouldn't _believe._"

* * *

><p>Just fifteen minutes later they were seated at a small restaurant not far from the campus, Rachel scouring the menu but Cuddy quite relaxed, sipping water.<p>

She'd suggested easting in the cafeteria, but Lamb had been shocked and appalled and told them no, they would eat _proper _food.

As the meal progressed, food arrived and the talk continued. It was until they were finishing up their main courses that Lamb asked the one question Cuddy had hoped he wouldn't. "So, what's brought you to Michigan. I assume it's not me."

Cuddy glanced at Rachel. "We're visiting a friend of mine," she smiled, picking up her glass. "Across the country. We're driving."

"Good God that's brave," Lamb raised his eyebrows. "In this heat? You must be crazy."

"Not crazy," Cuddy smiled. "Motivated."

"By what?" He asked, taking a bite of steak. "Or is it a secret?"

"Something like that," she murmured.

* * *

><p>After lunch had ended, goodbyes had been said and Rachel had admitted that Cuddy had been right, they'd gotten a good lunch, they began to traipse back to the car. They were going to drive on - though Cuddy hadn't the faintest idea where - immediately, and look for cheap motel to stay in again.<p>

Later on at lunch Lamb had been alerted to their predicament and had offered them a few hundred dollars. Cuddy had declined, but he'd managed to slip them into her pocket - no idea _how _- and leave before she noticed. Although she hadn't wanted to take his money, she couldn't deny that she felt a little safer with some cash in her pocket.

Rachel collapsed in her seat. "Just think," she smiled. "We have enough money to get a bottle of water or two."

"Lucky us," Cuddy muttered absentmindedly. "Wait here," she commanded, leaving her daughter, surprised, in the car as she ran down the street.

She entered the post office some five minutes later, thanking whoever was listening for it still being open. She smiled at the employee behind the desk. "Do you have anything for Lisa Cuddy?" She asked, her heart starting to race when he didn't immediately confirm that he did.

He checked for another minute or two, Cuddy bouncing on her heels. "Aah, here," he said, pulling a thin envelope out of a pile. "Arrived this morning," he told her, handing it over.

"Thank you," she said breathlessly, barreling out of the post office and settling herself outside in the afternoon heat. She sat outside on a stone step and slit the letter open with her nail. As she pulled the paper out she saw his thick handwriting all over the page. She swallowed, and started to read.

_Cuddy, _

_As long as you haven't turned into an idiot you shouldn't have had too much trouble finding this letter. It's outside University of Michigan, in case you didn't have time to sight-see. The place we met - a lifetime ago. _

_I do remember the first time I saw you, you had your hair flowing down your back and going crazy round your face. You were almost buckling under the weight of the textbooks - but I, ever the gentleman, of course didn't help you. It wasn't just how you looked, it was how you moved. The sway of your hips and the way you waited until everyone else had finished tripping through their sentences before speaking. And when you finally did utter even a word, you could be damn sure that everyone was listening. _

_It was in that moment that I knew I had to know more about you. I would never be satisfied just leaving it there - you were an anomaly. Anomalies bug me. So I asked around and found out where you were going to be. Entering that room, vibrating with the sound of the speaker, I only had one motive. It was a freshman party anyway - if I hadn't had a motive, I wouldn't have been seen dead there. _

_There was beer pong and drinking and grinding, and even though my head had formulated many ideas of what you'd be doing, the kinds of things you were into... I really had no idea. I ambled around, checking out various freshman, looking for you. I would've asked, but at that point I didn't even know your name. I was basing all this energy, this desire, on a few glimpses and a five second conversation. Call me crazy. _

_The party hummed with its own life. The walls pulsed, the sweat radiated and the voices carried, but all that was lost as soon as I saw you. You were standing by the pool, drink in hand, laughing with some guy. I sauntered over and I still remember that moment when you first locked eyes with me. You recognised me, of that I'm sure. And even though the only reason I was even at that house that night was you, I played it as casual as I could. Still remember my opening line. "Fancy meeting you here." _

_I'm still not sure if you believed me. If you did - which I suspect from your reaction - then I knew that I'd have you. Not one to toot my own horn, but, beep beep. Didn't get the reputation as campus stud for no reason. Sure, I was also campus ass and campus heartbreaker, but neither mattered here. As little as I knew about you, I hoped the opposite was true as well and you barely knew me. _

_You smiled, that toothy smile I only see when I knew you're really proud of something. I still don't know what you were proud of in that moment. I can't remember that conversation from there, something about names and majors and cup sizes. Like I said, it was a long time ago. _

_The rest of the party is a blur in my mind, mainly as we weren't there for much longer. I had you out of that door and walking to my dorm room in twenty minutes, tops. You may protest now, but I remember. I was, and still am, that good. You weren't smashed off your face, something I was grateful for, but pleasantly buzzed. Enough to make you giggly and open. I opened the door to my room and you'd pulled your dress off within ten seconds. _

_I'll admit freely now; I was hoping we'd end up doing the dirty. However, watching you offer yourself up so readily was such a turn on, you won't believe. Even then, you were in control. How much of that night you can recall I don't know, but I have most of it imprinted in my memory. The feel of your skin under my fingers, your breasts on my chest, my name on your lips. As we came together I remember losing all my senses, only moving with you, against you, in you. You were anchoring me to that moment, the sound of your climax pulling me to the present. _

_You slept well. I didn't. I spent the majority of the night watching you, taking you in. Trying to memorise the feel of you. I did my best, though by the time I saw you again - the job interview - the memories were hazy. That interview brought them all back. I don't know if you realised, but during that interview I was so close to coming all over your desk. _

_Even as an undergrad, essentially a baby, something about you pulled me in. And, you've still got me. When you said "I need your help," I decided that I would most likely do as you asked, regardless. Lucky for me the help you needed was interesting. _

_I haven't seen you in years, but I remember you as if it were yesterday - the time we said goodbye, unknowingly. I've never quite got over our lack of farewell. I guess we'll have to make up for it now. _

_Head to Swan, Iowa. You'll know where to look. _

_House_

_PS, if you ever ask me about these letters I'll deny writing them, even if you shove them in my face. Just a warning. _


	2. Chapter 2

Cuddy ran back to the car, her nimble feet pattering along the sidewalk. She got back into the driver's seat, the letter clasped in her hand. "Iowa," she grinned. "That's where we're going next. Swan, Iowa."

Rachel sighed. "I would ask why, but you won't tell me."

"Nope," Cuddy said gleefully. "It takes the fun away, sweetheart." She turned the key in the ignition. "We'll drive for a bit, and then I'll give a twenty and you can buy whatever the hell you want from the nearest store."

"What if the nearest store's a gun shop?" Rachel smirked.

"Then find a gun for twenty bucks and you can have it," Cuddy smiled. "If I limited you, that would just take the fun away." She smiled widely and drove off quickly, speeding up immediately.

Rachel gripped the edge with the acceleration and buckled her belt. "You're happy," she stated. "And _excited._"

"You'll understand soon enough," Cuddy told her. "Just you wait, this will all make sense in a few days."

"Sure," Rachel said sarcastically.

After the drive continued they stopped at a mom-and-pop drugstore - thankfully that next store they came to. Rachel hopped out, picking up sweets, sandwiches and water. She took a large swig as she got back in, smiling as a bead ran down her neck.

"Better?" Cuddy smirked. She'd sensed her daughter's irritation, and had hoped that some spending and sustenance would make her feel more lively.

"Yeah," Rachel smiled. She sank back into her seat, watching the scenery morph as they drove miles on. "Mom," she said suddenly. "Tell me about House."

Cuddy's expression remained the same, though in her chest her heart started thumping. She _couldn't _explain the complicated yet lifelong relationship she'd always have with that man. Her daughter was fifteen, her love life consisted of random crushes and flings; not the kind of unexplainable and unbreakable bond Cuddy knew this to be. Some may disagree, but she knew - especially after his letter - that he still felt for her, and she knew she felt for him.

After all, he was the one she immediately ran to, and he had accepted her with open arms. Regardless of the past, the present revealed a lasting, and, surprisingly, adult love.

"He's an old friend," Cuddy said carefully. "I met him in college. We were friends - more than friends - and then things ended. Like I said, it's been a long time since I saw him."

"You're lying," Rachel accused.

Cuddy said nothing, then, "why do you say that?"

"Because you don't run to someone who you haven't seen in twenty years, you just _don't. _Mom, you're dropping everything to find this guy - you don't do that if there's not something else pulling you there," Rachel explained, and Cuddy had to give her daughter credit.

"Fine," she sighed. "Okay, we met - briefly - in college. Then, he left. He was expelled and I didn't see him for a long time. Then, after I'd become the Dean, I gave him a job interview without realising who he was. As soon as I saw him, I remembered. And I hired him immediately. Rachel, he's... a genius. Always has been, always will. And I wanted him in my hospital. He was an employee for over a decade, and one day, he left. Got a new job. Haven't seen him since." She turned to her daughter. "Happy?"

Rachel nodded. "You sound like you really care about him," she noted.

"There'll always be some people you care about, no matter what happens between you." Cuddy agreed. "Like me and you. No matter what you do, I will love you."

"You're saying that the love you have for this guy is as unconditional as the love you have for me?" Rachel asked, and again Cuddy cursed her daughter for having such a quick mind.

"No," she said carefully. "Not unconditional. But... the conditions were far and few between. In the end, though, it just wasn't working. Our working relationship, I mean," she added hastily, remembering that she hadn't yet revealed their _actual _relationship to her daughter yet.

"Something happened, didn't it?" Rachel asked, eyes sparkling. "You don't give up on someone like that 'cause it 'wasn't working.'"

"Many things have happened that involve us over the years," Cuddy said slowly. "I wouldn't blame one solely."

"Oh," Rachel muttered.

"You sound disappointed," Cuddy remarked.

"Just... you're another person. You have a whole life that I've never known about, that I wasn't alive to be a part of. Hearing it about it is so... _interesting. _It's just a shame there isn't more," Rachel elaborated.

Cuddy wanted to tell her daughter everything. To spring the whole relationship on her, have nothing hidden. But after having numbed herself to the pain of losing him for so long she wasn't sure she could tell it all to even _herself. _

* * *

><p>House ambled downstairs, running a hand through his bedhead and yawning loudly. Buck and Archer both turned around, Buck lazily flipping him off as he slammed a coffee mug loudly on the table. "I'm thirsty," House broadcasted.<p>

"Nobody cares," Archer sighed. "Get it yourself, you lazy prick."

House smirked, hobbling to the percolator that was resting on the dirty kitchen top. He frowned. "What the hell happened to that maid we hired?"

"Buck fucked her," Archer said, by way of explanation. "And you know that everyone Buck fucks leaves."

House nodded slowly. He sat beside his two friends, watching them both intently before announcing, "We're having some guests."

Both men looked up. "Who?"

"Old friend and her kid," he continued, slurping the coffee loudly. "They're driving up from New Jersey."

Archer and Buck exchanged glances. "You don't have any friends," Archer pointed out. "Except for us, and I wouldn't exactly call us catches."

Buck smirked. "And even if you did have a secret friend hidden away, it most certainly wouldn't be a _chick._"

"I've had more women up to this house than the pair of you put together," he countered, chest swelling with pride. "And I only paid a third of them."

Buck raised his eyebrows. "Why's she coming to stay now? Not exactly a desirable holiday destination."

"Not sure," House revealed. "But, that's part of the reason I agreed. So I could find out." He smiled lasciviously. "And she's got a _smoking _hot bod. At least, she did that last time I saw her. I'm desperate to see if it's still as wonderful as I remember it."

"You know she can stay," Archer said. "You know it's fine. I have my sister here a lot, Buck's got Kate, even Patrick's had a few mates round. _You're _the one who never brings anyone back, in all the time we've known you."

"There's always a first time," House said. "Now, I've gotta go. People to save, lives to give. Not like the three of you, you just sit around and do fuck all."

"Excuse me," Patrick said, entering the kitchen. "Are you saying that running this place isn't hard work?" He was mock-angry, lightly punching his friend on the arm as he went past him to the refrigerator.

"It's a _farm,_" House scoffed. "How hard can it really be?"

"You've watched us for years," Buck pointed out. "You tell me."

"Not hard," House replied without hesitation. "What is there to it, really? A couple of sheep, you birth a few calves, pick a few apples, done. I'm about to do a kidney transplant. You tell me which is harder."

The three men exchanged glances. "You should be nicer to us," Patrick teased, "if we hadn't taken you in, you'd probably be on the street."

"Please," House scoffed. "I'm a world famous diagnostician -"

"Who has more enemies than Darth Vadar," Buck teased. "And you say that like we don't know about your gambling problem. What had you blown? Five grand in an hour?"

"Shut up," House snarled, but with a hint of amusement in his voice. "I didn't have a _gambling _problem. I had a _drinking _problem, which led me to gambling. See? There's a _difference._"

The three men rolled their eyes and wished him well, House leaving soon after. He got in his car and started the drive to the hospital. They were alright, he smiled, thinking of the three of them. He always resigned himself to the fact that Wilson would be his only friend - Cuddy didn't count, he'd _loved _her - and yet, when he'd met Buck, Archer and Patrick they'd accepted him easily. They didn't know his past, that he was addict, prone to depression... so, naturally, they didn't look for the signs of a relapse or a breakdown. In turn, House had never displayed them.

He was relaxed, calm. And, surprisingly, he _liked _his life. He liked knowing that there were three beer-drinking, chick-demeaning, gun-toting guys that he had at home. No messy feelings, no emotional baggage.

And yet... he did feel like something was missing. He'd been in relationships before, serious ones. Stacy, and, of course, Cuddy. As much as he'd loved Stacy, she'd been there for him through the infarction, Cuddy... she really did have the history, the relationship that even after years of silence they could pick up where they'd left off - desperately trying to figure each other out.

He wouldn't miss this opportunity. He knew something was up - no one who was as much of a control freak as Cuddy was would drop everything unless something had happened - and he was excited to see her now. _She'd _come crawling back to _him. _They were meeting on _his _turf. No longer was he automatically at a disadvantage, having only Wilson and Cuddy to depend on, holding on to Cuddy with everything he had as he thought that she was the main thing anchoring him to his world.

Yes, he was more than happy to see her again. _Far _more than happy. But he was under no illusions. If something went wrong, again, he wouldn't be broken. He'd be crushed for a while, he understood that, but he had a support system now that didn't revolve around Cuddy _at all. _Sure, having her here would only remind him of how much she did give him, but when she arrived he would be all she had. Should they fight, Cuddy would have no one to talk to. House was the only she knew, save Rachel.

He was confident that coupling her feeling uncomfortable at not having control with her 'something' that had happened would give him the time and resources to really articulate to her everything he could ever want her to know, good and bad. Whether she stayed or left, she would know. He wouldn't worry of them parting with things left unsaid.

He knew himself though, and knew that somethings he would never be physically able to say aloud. That's why he'd written the letters. Parts of him, of them, that he could never say to her face but that he wanted her to know or remember. He wanted her to arrive with those thoughts in her head. He didn't want her to mention them, but he wanted to know that she didn't feel trapped. She'd ran to him, and no matter what she said to indicate otherwise, House could read between the lines and see that her feelings for him were as strong as his for her. He wanted her to know that the things he'd felt for her - things he'd felt for her since the moment he'd met her - made him as vulnerable as she would surely be when she arrived.

When running to him was the only option she could fathom, he knew that she looking for absolution. Whether whatever had happened was her fault or not, he knew that she would feel guilty for taking time to herself, for taking a break. She would need him - someone who famously did not judge wrongs for what they merely appeared to be when it came to those he cared about - to grant her permission to feel her feelings. And, he knew, that regardless of the state she was in when she arrived, she wouldn't be as okay as she tried to make herself.

Running like she was now... it was not Cuddy. But for real Cuddy to come back, he knew that Not-Cuddy would have to get it out.

And he was determined to give that to her.

* * *

><p>"Mom!" Rachel exclaimed as the drove past a dust-covered sign. "Food! Stop!"<p>

Cuddy brought the car to screeching halt, a cloud of dust throwing into the air. She stared at sign along with her daughter, praying that it wasn't a mirage. "Thank God," she breathed, running after Rachel into the diner.

"Mornin' sweetpeas," a bubbly waitress beamed as they entered the diner. They must have looked a sight; both had been wearing the same clothes for going on three days, Rachel in a bathing suit. As much as they were in need of new clothes, they needed food more. "What can I get ya?"

"Pancakes," Rachel said decisively.

"Coffee," Cuddy said after, her necessity. "And eggs. Scrambled, please."

"Sure thing darlin' - comin' right up," the waitress - who's name-tag read Louise - said to the pair, before shouting through the kitchen window to the chefs.

Aside from two truckers, they were alone. They sank down into one of the empty booths. Rachel beamed at her mother. "This is exciting, isn't it?"

Cuddy smiled back, her daughter's enthusiasm infectious. "Yes, sweetie, it is," she agreed, fiddling with the napkin on her lap. As they were talking, one of the truckers left and the other came over to them.

"Mornin'," he said, tipping his hat. "I'm Joe."

As Rachel opened her mouth to introduce herself, Cuddy interrupted. "Jess," she said with a thick Southern accent, holding out her hand. "And this is my daughter Molly."

"Pleased to meet you," Rachel said, with an equally thick accent, shaking his hand too - not even blinking at the lie.

"Mind if I join you?" He asked, and, much to Rachel's surprise, Cuddy nodded. The trucker sat and sipped his coffee, having brought it over. "What's two lovely ladies like you doing out here?"

"Bull-riding competition," Rachel told him. "Mom's Mississippi State Champ."

Cuddy resisted the urge to scowl at her child. Only Rachel would use this situation to create the most implausible profession possible. Yet, Joe seemed to eat it up.

"Really?" he drawled. "Gotta tell ya, you two don't look like the Mississippi type. Or the bull-riding type," he added.

"We moved there three years ago," Cuddy cut in smoothly. If Rachel could make things up, so could she. "My husband was a workaholic, and it got too much. We tried to run before, but, he found us. So we went to Mississippi."

"No one'll find ya there," Joe agreed. "What did your husband do?"

"He was an inventor," Cuddy lied. "He invented the toaster. True story."

Rachel giggled into her water glass, and Cuddy kicked her to it looked like she just choked on some water.

"No kiddin'," Joe said, visibly surprised.

"And the moonboot," Cuddy continued, the lies dripping of her tongue like honey. "He also worked on a new NASA satellite that can reach the Sun, and is credited with coming up with the iPod. Of course, Steve Jobs robbed him. Copyright small print." Cuddy slammed the table with her fist. "Bastard," she hissed.

Rachel choked on some more water.

"Ain't that somethin'," Joe drawled, enthralled. "Hey Sugar," he called, referring to Louise, "we got the wife and kid of the man who invented the toaster!"

Louise came out and set the pancakes and eggs in front of them. "Well I'll be damned," the waitress gasped. "Ain't that a coincidence."

"Sure is," Rachel piped up.

Joe continued to marvel at Cuddy's 'husband's' success, while regaling them with stories of trucking, and home, and more trucking. He told some pretty amazing stories, while interjecting suitable shocked "can't believe he invented the toaster!" remarks.

By the time the two had finished, Joe and Louise were getting them to tell - read: fabricate - elaborate stories of Cuddy's husband's inventing disasters. They got crazier and crazier, and even Cuddy was shocked that she could create them, let alone _believe _them.

"Fuck me," Joe said, as Rachel finished their latest tale. "I see why you left. Wouldn't wanna be around that disaster zone for any longer than I had to."

Cuddy got out some of their money from her pocket, but Louise held up her hand. "Honey, no. You given us enough entertainment this mornin' that you've more than paid for your food."

"Thanks," Cuddy said gratefully, and she meant it. They had to save all the money they could get.

They exited the diner, giggling under their breaths until they were out of earshot before bursting into full blown laughter. They laughed until Cuddy's stomach hurt and Rachel was crying, soaking up the joy in that moment.

As she calmed, she held open the door. "After you, sweetpea," she drawled, Southern again.

"Why thank you, momma dear," Rachel replied, laughing as the car sped off down the road.

* * *

><p>"The bruise is getting bad Mom," Rachel said, Cuddy wincing as she gently poked her finger around it. "He's such a bastard," she said.<p>

"Language," Cuddy admonished. "We're here," she said, as they entered Swan.

It was a tiny town. Cuddy had been wracking her brains the whole drive for why House was sending her there, but she had no idea. Nothing from their past seemed to connect with this place.

They'd never been there, had any association with the city at all. She'd thought about symbolism, a swan, but she could think of no swan associations to their relationship either.

Rachel frowned. "This is small," she stated. "You sure we're in the right place?" She checked, peering out of the window.

"Yes," Cuddy promised. "House wouldn't send us anywhere that we weren't meant to be."

Rachel raised her eyebrows. "You know," she murmured, feet dangling out of the window, "before we get there, you'll have to tell me more about him."

Cuddy said nothing, merely pulled up in down the road from the post office. "Wait here," she ordered, pressing a quick kiss to Rachel's forehead. She practically skipped down the street.

Being such a small town, there were few letters. As she mentioned her name, an envelope was thrust into her awaiting palm. A mumbled thank you and Cuddy had torn it open. She started to read, and as she got further down the page, she felt her eyes begin to sting and few tears roll down her face.

_Cuddy, _

_This one may be more of a mystery to you. I hope you didn't have trouble finding this - since there's only one post office in all of Swan. If you did, I'll have to reevaluate my judgement of your mental capacity. Don't make me do it. _

_Anyway, if you hadn't noticed, Iowa is full of corn. Fields and fields of it. Makes for a ass-kickin' game of hide-and-seek but isn't so great for driving. It was after our night, after I'd been expelled from med school. I was driving, I was mad and lost and hopeless, so I got in my car and just kept going. I wasn't running away, or running to, I was just... running. And you know what a strain decisions without purpose put on me. _

_The corn was high and my car was barreling through, crushing stalks as I went. My face was hot, from the Sun and rage. Rage that I'd never see you again. I wasn't looking where I was going. I crashed. I'd been crashing my way through, assuming that the corn stalks were never-ending, and then there was a tractor. Bam. _

_I woke up in an ambulance with a farmer sitting next to me, talking like a crazy red-neck. Something about an accident. As I moved my abdomen filled with pain and I made such a fuss that they decided to sedate me. So, I dreamed. Mainly, of course, of you. _

_I was craving the connection I'd felt with you that night. It had been such a buzz, a high, and I had to search for it. I was recreating it in any way I could. So much of me was spent closing off other people, and yet with you, I wanted to bring my walls down and let you see me. If anyone could give me that approval I was looking for, something in my gut told me it was you. _

_You were in front on me, holding out your hands and beckoning me forward. We were cruising by a beach, walking as if there was no place to go, nothing to think about. You turned and kissed me, and we made love on the beach. The feel of your skin under my fingers was so real, I would swear even now that it happened. That we were really there, together, kissing on the sand. I revealed everything to you - bits of me I'd swear I'd never told myself. You, in turn, did the same. _

_Of course, we hadn't talked enough for me to have accurate memories for the dream-you to recall, but I guess my subconscious created them to fit with me, to make our pain compatible. We spoke of the hardest times in our lives and I felt I knew more about you than I'd ever known about anyone. That's what one dream-conversation did to me. _

_We kept walking, until we came across a rock face. You smiled daringly and started to climb. I called you down, but you kept going. You looked like a monkey, swinging from rock to rock. I tried to follow, but I wasn't as flexible. You'd reached the top and were cheering me on, holding your hand out to me. But, I slipped. I fell. And as I hit the rocks, pain ran through me so sharply that I knew in an instant that it was real. _

_My eyes shot open. There was blood around and the ambulance was pulling into a bay. My sedation had been light and, in my awakened state, they wheeled me through to the operating room. My surgery was most likely filled with you, but, unfortunately, I don't remember._

_When it was over and I woke in my hospital bed the first thing I did was reach for the bedside phone. I connected from information, and then, magically, there was your voice. You sounded pissed, like I'd interrupted you. I realised that you'd forgotten me already. Pathetic me, injured in a hospital bed. You didn't need me bringing you down. _

_I wanted to hang up immediately, but I couldn't. "I'm in Swan," I muttered. "Iowa. In the hospital. There's only one," I added, just in case. _

_I could hear you frown. "Who is this?" You asked. _

_I hung up. Three days later, I was released. I moved on, new med school, new life. And I made it my mission to find you again, and make sure that there would never be another time when you didn't recognise my voice. _

_Head to Denver, Colorado. Remember that medical conference? I do. _

_House. _

_PS, you know that there'll never be a time when I'm willing to admit that I wrote these. I know I said that last letter, but just checking that you're sure. _


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: To A Busy Reader (who doesn't have an account so I can't PM) I do see where you're coming from. The reason why I preferred using Lucas with a changed personality instead of an OC is that this story is all about finding out about people you thought you knew, changing perspectives, and seeing people in ways you didn't know you could. I wanted a character that had a history with both of them so you could see the changes in those relationships too. Also, Cuddy and Lucas have been through a lot (canon and little in the story) not only did she leave him once she's also showing hesitation for marrying him AGAIN. Seems like there could be some unresolved anger here. **

**With her father, I felt I could use my artistic license here. We don't know a lot about her father - all I can infer from the little we've heard about him is that Cuddy was more like him than her mother and felt the need to make him proud. I don't know much about physical abuse, but it was a different era and I don't think it was unheard of for that to be happening. I hope it doesn't affect how you read the story! **

**Everyone: Sorry for the wait! Hope you enjoy :) **

* * *

><p>Cuddy came back to the car gripping the letter tightly. Her heart was beating like a drum and she tried to hide the lingering emotion from her daughter. Of course, Rachel was having none of it. She noticed the tell-tale redness immediately. "Mom?" She asked.<p>

"It's nothing," Cuddy scoffed.

"Give me that!" Rachel said adamantly, swiping at the letter. Cuddy lifted out of reach, scowling at her daughter. "Mom, they're making you _cry. _They can't be all that wonderful." She tried again, Cuddy scooting further back on the seat to avoid having her letter stolen.

"Honey... you just don't understand. You can't. You don't know him, you don't know our history. Our past is woven together in a way that makes it impossible for me to ever forget him. And reading this, being shown parts of us that I didn't know had happened, well... it makes me think. About what I would have changed." Cuddy stroked her daughter's head. "You will meet your own amazing boy, one who you'll remember for the rest of your life whether you're together or not. He's mine."

Rachel shook her head. "Why is he _so _special to you?"

Cuddy paused. She couldn't even _begin _to explain what House was to her - he was part of her in a way no other man could ever be. To explain it to anyone, even her daughter, would be near to impossible. Still, she knew Rachel would need an answer of some sort. She didn't want to reveal that he'd just been a one stand at first. "We met when I was an undergrad and he was in med school and we dated for a while. Then he was expelled - "

"Expelled?" Rachel asked, eyes widening but glittering. "What for?"

"Cheating. Rach, he's... unimaginably smart. A genius. But he's never been someone to handle rules or colour in the lines. He's someone who'd shut the colouring book and throw the crayons at you, calling you a moron." Cuddy laughed at little to herself. "He's pushes boundaries. That's what he does. He was conducting his own experiment about whether a teacher would grade a bad paper - one he wrote badly deliberately - well if he put the name of one of the professor's favourite students."

Rachel smiled. "And he was expelled," she chuckled.

"Anyway, I didn't see him for a really long time. I felt differently about him than I'd ever felt about another boy while we were dating, but it was still a college relationship. To me, it wasn't worth the heartbreak of staying in touch. Next time I saw him was at a job interview," Cuddy continued.

"You were competing for the same job?" Rachel clarified.

"No. I was the Dean at this point and he was interviewing for a job at PPTH. Because of his infamous inability to comply with anyone else's wishes or rules he was virtually unemployable. No one wanted him, no wanted to risk having his mind working for them if it came with his personality as well. But I knew. I knew that he had the capacity to be sweet, and so I gave him a job - " Cuddy sighed as Rachel cut in again.

"He _worked _for you? How have I never heard about him?" She interjected.

"Am I ever going to get to finish this?" Cuddy raised an eyebrow. Rachel rolled her eyes and gestured with her hand, making a "go on" motion. Cuddy started to speak again, "he was an impossible employee. He was rude, dangerous and half the time doing illegal things. But he solved cases like no one else could. Literally. He ran his own Diagnostics department. They - he and his team - specialised in cases that many doctors had already been unable to crack. They were rarely wrong or unable to do it too," she smiled fondly.

"We got closer over the years," Cuddy continued. "Wilson was his best friend, but I was too. We were all three close in different ways. Over about two years we started to get _really _close. We... ended up kissing one night, after that first adoption fell through - "

"Wait," Rachel stopped her mother. "This was close to when you adopted me?"

"I'm getting to that," Cuddy scolded. "We didn't get back together then though - I rationalised that it was a mistake, he was unable to open up and he was callous and cold and I couldn't handle a relationship with him. Then, I adopted you. He lashed out, felt like he wasn't getting enough attention. He's like a big kid in many ways. Then he went away for a bit and I started things up with Lucas, for the first time. We were together for a year - a year that House got further apart in some ways, as we were desperately trying to deny what we both knew was true. We loved each other. It wasn't until Lucas proposed - again, the first time - that I realised I didn't want to be with him. I wanted House. So, I left Lucas that night and went to him. From there..." She tailed off.

"We dated for almost a year, to point of effectively living together. He was... amazing, and challenging, and new. And I did love him more than any man. But - as I'd said to myself years before - when I truly needed him, he wasn't there. He ran. And I knew that in a real crisis he'd never be there for me - even though I was sure he meant it when he told me he wished he'd been able to be there. I still left him."

"Mom... I _lived _with this guy? Why has no one _ever _mentioned him?" Rachel was shocked.

"He didn't take it well, the break up. About another year later he packed up and left. No word, took off. I found he was in California and that he planned to stay there. There was nothing I could do. The last time I saw him was just before he left suddenly. I lived my life, raising you, working, but I never forgot him. I missed him _all the time. _I dated, I went back to Lucas... but, sweetheart, no matter what happens between us I'll love him. Just like he'll love me. God, I called out of the blue a decade after we last spoke telling him I needed somewhere to go and he said yes, no problem. Our relationship, no matter what form it's in, will always be _there._"

"Wow..." Rachel breathed. "That's... complicated."

"Honey, that's barely anything. That's thirty years crammed into seven hundred words or so. Us, we're so many intricacies and connections that it would take me months to explain them." She looked at her daughter, who did look surprised, like she was processing a pile of information at lightning speed. "Do you see why these letters are so important to me? They show me that, even after all this time, the most important relationship I ever had still exists. That he still is there for me. And the things he's telling me - they do make me cry. Because, part of me - a bigger part than you might think - will always want to be with him permanently. To wake up next to him every day for the rest of my life. To see what I no longer have makes me sad," Cuddy finished, her eyes stinging.

"Why didn't you tell him that?" Rachel asked quietly. "You obviously love him more than anyone."

"Apart from you, yes. It goes Rachel, then House," she smiled at her daughter. "But you understand now? These letters will seem like words to you. To me, they're more. They're chapters of us that I'd forgotten, or never heard about, and all of it is, literally, leading me back to him. You - and not anyone else either - can't understand what these letters mean," Cuddy said softly.

"After that," Rachel said, "I don't want to read it. You say that letter's a chapter - which I'm not denying it is - but it seems like a page of private issues. The two of you need to work through them, and I don't want to get in the middle of something so complicated," she smiled at Cuddy. "I wish I have relationship that means that much to me one day."

"You will," Cuddy promised. "And that's the beautiful thing about the one relationship that sticks with you - even if you're apart, you always find each other again. I didn't see House for ten or so years between med school and hiring him and we still picked up - in terms of our treatment of one another, not the being together - like it was yesterday. I haven't seen him for another decade now, and yet I know I know him. These letters show me that. We've spent our entire lives together re-finding each other, whether it be literally, emotionally or romantically. The one that's meant to be always finds you again," Cuddy told her daughter, kissing her forehead.

Rachel was quiet for a moment. "I guess we should find him then," she said, smiling companionably at Cuddy.

"That's my girl," Cuddy replied, starting the ignition and racing off.

* * *

><p>House sat in his office, twirling a pencil between his fingers. He was trying focus on the case in front of him but his mind kept wandering back to Cuddy. He wondered how much she'd changed. Or whether she'd changed at all. Cuddy had the ability to stay identical and yet totally reinvent herself simultaneously. Every time they met, she was somehow different but the girl he'd met on that first day of med school was still there.<p>

He smirked quietly to himself, looking up as his door opened. "House," Dr Mann said crossly, thrusting a piece of paper at him. "Stop leaving me notes on my car."

"They're not _notes_," House scoffed. "They're - "

"Don't care," Mann interrupted. "Listen carefully: I am _not _your friend."

"What?" House mock-exclaimed. "You mean, after all these years together, we're _not _California's answer to Paris and Nicole?"

Mann frowned. "I don't know who they are."

"They fight, they make up. One of the great friendships of our time. Actually, they might originally be California's. If this is going to work we may have to move out of state." Mann continued to look unamused, so House went on. "Fine. I'll stop leaving monster truck rally flyers on your car - "

"Thank you," Mann said, turning to leave.

" - _if..._" House bargained. "You give me your office. And your secretary. Or at least your secretary's boobs."

"You're a pig," Mann scoffed. "You _cannot _have my office, my secretary, or anything else!"

"Can I have sex with your wife?" House asked. "If your not doing it, someone else should. Then again, have you seen the kind of men you have running around your house? Good chance she's banging one of them."

"Enough," Mann sighed. "You've been fighting for my office for two years. Haven't you worked out that I'm not going to give it to you?"

"Yep," House smirked. "I've now switched to a far more brilliant plan - make you resign or retire. Ideally retire, but you can't have everything."

Mann sighed. "You're pathetic," he said, as if he'd lost all energy.

"But I'm content," he replied. "Unlike you. I have everything I could ever want - eternal bachelorhood and a lifetime supply of cider. You're stuck in a dead marriage with three terrors to support and a job that's made miserable by me. And the reason you stay in this deadening situation... Is because you're a coward." He smirked cockily. "Who's pathetic now?"

"You're not content," Mann countered. "You're alone."

"Contently alone."

"No matter what they say, no one is contently alone," Mann offered as his parting words. "Leave me, and my car, in peace."

The door slammed shut. House continued to plot Mann's demise, all the while thinking of Cuddy. _She'd _called _him. _He wasn't alone.

* * *

><p>"This is officially the most disgusting bathing suit of all time," Rachel stated.<p>

"You love that suit," Cuddy replied.

"I did. Until it started to smell like something out of a garbage can that's inhabited by a family of hygienically challenged skunks," Rachel countered. "If I can't get out of this thing, I'll have to start travelling naked."

"We wouldn't want that," Cuddy agreed. "You're too pretty. We'd have a line of men chasing us down the road."

"Ew," Rachel wrinkled her nose. "You're disgusting."

"You brought up naked travelling," Cuddy reminded. "I'm just saying why it's a bad idea."

"You're lucky," Rachel told her. "You're wearing a nice cotton shirt - albeit Lucas' - and some comfortable shorts. I'm in tiny denim hotpants and a dirty swimsuit."

Cuddy laughed incredulously. "_I'm _lucky. That's - "

"Oh come on Mom," Rachel smiled. "Fine, your clothes are dirty too. But we're travelling across the country to find the love of your life - if you don't feel lucky about that, then you're an ingrate."

"How dare you," Cuddy replied jokingly. "This is all for _you._"

"Sure," Rachel chuckled. "Why, is he secretly my long lost father?"

"Damn," Cuddy smiled. "How did you guess?"

"I'm overly intelligent," she replied.

"Maybe you are his daughter," Cuddy muttered. "Hey, look!" Both women stared at the small roadside shop advertising cheap clothes. "Aren't _you _lucky?" Cuddy said, smiling at Rachel's delighted expression.

Rachel skipped into the shop, smiling at the array of outfits. "Mommy!" She pouted happily. "Clothes!"

Rachel started grabbing things gleefully. She picked up a handful of multicoloured shorts and tank tops. The woman from behind the counter came over, beaming. "Looking for something?" She asked sweetly.

"Clean clothes," Rachel replied.

The sales assistant laughed. "I can promise you that eighty percent of out merchandise is clean," she joked.

Rachel and Cuddy spent an hour shopping, Rachel parading around in various outfits and Cuddy rating them. "Grab your pile," she ordered, gesturing to the neatly folded stack. The shop was offering brand new clothes for a little as a dollar. Despite Rachel buying ten things, they paid under $25.

"That was..." Rachel was lost for words, climbing back into the seat in her new shorts and t-shirt. "Unbelievable!"

"Who's the lucky one now?" Cuddy asked.

"We're_ both_ lucky," Rachel acquiesced. "We're a lucky mommy-daughter team."

"Mommy-daughter team?" Cuddy repeated, feigning delight. "I'm going to get T-shirts printed with that!"

"Don't you dare," Rachel warned, laughing as they headed to their next destination.

* * *

><p>As they crossed the state line into Colorado, Cuddy felt her heart began to pound. She knew that there was at least another good hour of driving before they reached their destination but she couldn't help her mind wandering. That medical conference... God, she'd forgotten all about it.<p>

It had been around three years after she'd hired House - still before the infarction. Thinking back, Cuddy assumed that he'd been with Stacy at that point, but couldn't be sure. At the time, it had been so insignificant that she'd barely remembered anything about the whole weekend. Her, House and Wilson. The three of them, twenty years or so ago. It was like another life.

It was getting late and Rachel was asleep peacefully, stretched out across all the back seats. Cuddy smiled fondly, glad that she had such an amazing child. All her life, Rachel had amazed Cuddy. Not just with the things she achieved but just _being. _Cuddy had wanted a baby for so long - but never had she imagined just what it felt like to be most important person to someone. It had always been her and Rachel. And to know - even smack-bang in the middle of the teen years - that Rachel loved and trusted her enough to follow her across the country was unimaginable. No, thinking about it, Cuddy decided it wasn't the love and trust.

It was that, after all this time, Rachel still liked to be _with _her.

And that meant the world to Cuddy.

Cuddy continued to drive. The minutes ticked by on the dashboard clock and she felt her eyelids drooping. She wondered if the post office would be open this late. Normally, she'd have known it was no immediately, but she remembered how many emergency documents had been sent to her during that conference at all hours and assumed the post office's hours were ridiculous and _long. _She was hoping for it.

Finally, Cuddy drove past the hotel the three of them had stayed in. Blowing out a breath, she drove until she found a nearby out of the way car park. After pulling the key out of the ignition, she gently shook Rachel's shoulder. "Honey?"

"Mmmmm..." Rachel groaned. "What?"

"I'm going to look for the post office," Cuddy said. "I'll be back soon. If I'm not back in an hour, find the Grove hotel round the corner and call Wilson."

"Sure," Rachel murmured. "Great. Don't die."

"Love you too," Cuddy smirked, kissing her daughter's forehead quickly and jumping out of the car. She sprinted out of the parking garage and round the corner, apologising as she crashed into at least three people. The only shoes she'd brought were work heels and they were currently discarded on the car floor. She must of looked a sight, no shoes, shapeless shirt, messy hair.

The truth was, she didn't really care. She cared about finding the next puzzle piece.

Reaching the post office she grinned like a Cheshire cat, showing all her teeth. It was still open - miraculously. She opened the door, panting a little, and approached the man at the desk. "Excuse me," she interrupted, "do you have a letter for Lisa Cuddy?" She held her hand out expectantly without realising.

The employee checked. "Sorry," he shrugged. "No letter."

Cuddy felt her stomach drop. "C-can you check again?" She stumbled.

He did. "Sorry ma'am. Nothing. Check again tomorrow?"

She gave a slight nod and left, dazed. It was only hitting her now - she was depending on these letters. She didn't want to make this trip without finding out the rest of their story, the parts House felt it necessary to share.

But, apparently, he'd got bored. She didn't know why she was surprised. She should have known, and yet...

She couldn't believe he'd _abandoned _her like that.

She made her way dejectedly to the car, a few tears escaping. Reading his words, seeing his thoughts, she felt a real _connection. _Like they had a bond that no one else could understand. And now... well, it obviously didn't mean as much to him as it did to her.

She jumped in startling an again sleeping Rachel. She rubbed her eyes. "Where to next?"

"Who knows?" Cuddy sighed, sniffing. "He didn't send one this time."

Rachel sat up. "What?"

"There was no letter," Cuddy rephrased.

Rachel sat for a moment. "What are we going to do?" She asked quietly.

"We could go home," Cuddy said. "Or maybe we could just drive straight to him. Forget the rest of the trip."

Rachel was visibly shocked. "Oh what?" Cuddy grumbled.

"You can't give up yet," Rachel told her. "Don't freak out. We'll check in the morning."

Cuddy reclined her seat and turned on her side. "Fine."

Rachel waited a moment. "I doubt he's just forgotten about us."

"You'd be surprised," Cuddy muttered, before she fell asleep.

* * *

><p>Lucas shut down the credit history window on the computer and put his head in his hands. No activity since they'd left. He was lost and confused and unhappy and wanted her back. He was <em>sorry. <em>He got jealous and insecure and _he hadn't meant it. _But he wasn't surprised she'd left. He just had to _find _her again and bring her home.

He'd checked everything, the licence plate, credit cards, phone records, but none had been sighted or used. She'd covered her tracks like a pro.

Lucas thought about her every minute since she'd left - he did love her more than anything. They'd been through a lot since they'd met but he'd felt like they'd got it this time. They were engaged and - he'd thought - happy. Apparently he was wrong.

_It was like the first time all over again,_ he couldn't help but think. Then, _House. _How could he have not thought of it before? _Of course _that's where she'd going - to find him. Lucas could have hit himself out of stupidity. He opened his browser and it took him less that ten minutes to locate Gregory House, MD. Even though it was late, Lucas couldn't wait until morning. He dialled the number cautiously.

House was almost asleep when his phone started to ring. Jumping up he knocked his scotch to the floor and he swore, watching as the amber liquid fell through the floor boards. Angrily he picked up the handset. "What?" He barked.

"House?"

"Yeah. Who is this?" House snarled. He had no patience for this.

There was a pause. "Lucas."

House sat up. "Lucas? Why are you calling me?" House asked, but it was starting to dawn on him.

Cuddy mysteriously ran, and now Lucas was calling him. House felt his stomach turn. _She'd been back with Lucas. _

"House, I just need to know," Lucas pleaded. "Is she there? Has she contacted you?"

"Go away," House snarled. "I don't know what you're talking about," he added, preparing to hang up.

"Wait!" Lucas begged. "You're the only person she'd run to," he continued. "I just need to know if she's okay."

"I don't know what you're talking about," House repeated through gritted teeth. "Don't call me again."

Lucas's tone changed. "I'll find her," he vowed. "No matter where she is."

"Great," House said sarcastically. "I don't know anything about this. Whatever happened or wherever she is is no concern of mine. I haven't spoken to the woman in _eons. _I don't care anymore," he finished. "Don't call me again," he repeated, and hung up.

House wished he could now pick up the phone and call her. He had to warn her. As mad as he was that she'd gone back to _him, _he was exponentially more curious about the whole situation. It hit him now that he didn't know anything about where she was, how far on his journey she'd gotten, if she'd found all the places.

Then he realised that it didn't matter. No matter how long it took he was staying put, so she'd have to find him. He was waiting for her.

* * *

><p>Cuddy woke the next morning with a headache. She wanted to get up, but couldn't. She'd lost all the energy for this last night.<p>

And yet... she was still holding hope. The letter was late to arrive, she rationalised. It'll be there now.

Dragging herself up and letting Rachel know, Cuddy made her way back. Her head hurt, her back was stiff from sleeping in the car and she felt helpless. If the letter wasn't there now... She'd didn't know what she'd do.

"Hel - " She started, but the employee beat her to it. He was the same guy from before.

"Ma'am," he smiled. "Your letter arrived an hour ago."

Cuddy felt her heart stop. "Really?" She breathed.

"Cuddy, right?" He asked. She nodded. "Yep. Here it is." He handed it over and she gripped it like a child would a favoured toy.

She ran out into the fresh summer air and ripped it, smiling at his messy script. _He hadn't forgotten. _

_Cuddy, _

_That medical conference was going to be bad regardless. For me, anyway. I didn't want to go, didn't want to present, didn't want to spend a weekend away from my porn and alcohol. Go figure. And yet, as my boss, you managed to force me. Thanks for that.  
><em>

_We arrived late morning and the day passed without event. You and Wilson attended speeches and talks and I hung out in the room buying pay-per-view "entertainment" and eating everything in the minibar. It was only two nights and yet I was miserable. I wanted to ruin it for you, convince into never forcing me into another conference. _

_That first night there was a big party. Black tie. You said that there were two non-optional parts of this conference for me. Presenting my paper and attending this party. God, I wanted to lock myself in a cupboard and not come up for a decade. I could think of nothing worse than spending the evening with a bunch of decrepit doctors who need to drag colostomy bags with them everywhere they go. You told me yes I'd be in Hell, but it was important I was there. _

_I put on my tux and knocked gently on your door, scowling. I was planning on making this night a complete disaster for you. You opened the door... and I was literally speechless. I still remember exactly what you looked like. Your hair was gently curled and framing your face. You were wearing a black silk floor length dress that made you look so sexy I though I was about to have a heart attack. It hugged your curves and outlined your perfect breasts - though most of your outfits do that. Your eyes were sparkling and you were wearing deep plum lipstick. I'm not going to lie - I did spend quite a chunk of that evening imagining that lipstick ringing my cock. _

_You held your arm out to me. I took it. I couldn't think of sabotaging you in that moment - all I could think was how amazing you looked. You looked... beautiful. Although I'd been attracted to you since the moment I saw you it was then that all I could think of doing was pushing you back to your room, taking your clothes off and showing you just how beautiful you were. You shouldn't have to spend the evening with self-righteous dicks who were going to stare at your chest and pinch your ass at every given opportunity. _

_We got to the party and I was trying to hold on to you. I didn't want to lose you to everyone else, I wanted everyone to see me with you. To see us together. People immediately crowded you, wanting to get a piece of you. I wished I could stop them. This sounds stupid and creepily possessive... but I wanted you to be mine. I didn't want to share you with anyone else. You were so happy and carefree and confident - you knew exactly how to get these men to do anything for you. I watched you in awe. _

_It wasn't until eleven that I lost you. I turned around and you were gone. I searched around the room for you, scanning all the tables and the dance floor and the buffet, but I could see you. Wilson came over sometime later and told me he saw you leave with a young guy some time ago. _

_God, was I jealous. I wanted to bombard Wilson with question but I couldn't. He'd never have let it go. _

_I left soon after, unable to stay without you on my arm. The next morning, I saw you coming out of a room down the hall from mine, shoes clutched in your hand and hair messed around your face. You look... content. I wished that I'd been the one to make feel like that. I wanted to be the man with you... I realised it for sure that night. _

_That night, I realised that I... had strong feelings for you._

_I also realised that there was no way you'd go for me. There were plenty of handsome men who weren't jerks willing to date you. You wouldn't pick me. It was so hard for me to let that go because I knew I was right for you. That no matter who you were with, I would be better. We'd fight and shout and have problems. Neither of us are the kind of people who are mindlessly happy together. _

_But we'd be in the right place. Because, and you may disagree, you're the only one who can put up with me and I'm the only one who can handle you. _

_And that is as true now as it was then._

_Next, head to Rockville, Utah. Wondering why? Me too. _

_House_

_PS, You know the drill. Lips zipped. _


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: To those readers who read the last chapter straight from an email alert, I forgot to put the next destination at the end of the last letter. Oops! Cuddy and Rachel are now headed to Rockville, Utah. Enjoy :) and thanks for all of the wonderful reviews! :) **

* * *

><p>After Cuddy had hurried back to the car she set off toward Utah as soon as she could, anxious to hit the next spot on the journey and be one step closer to House. As she read his letters she could imagine his voice saying the words and she felt her heart speed up with need. She <em>needed <em>to see him.

Rachel was sleeping contently on the back seats, groaning occasionally if they hit a bump in the road. Cuddy smirked back at her daughter, watching her face contort with the jolts. Rachel was so_... beautiful. _Cuddy couldn't have imagined the wonderful, witty, smart... _amazing _person that that little abandoned baby would turn into. Remembering standing over that small NICU crib, House next to her, Cuddy was reminded once more of what a fixture House was in her life. The important moments were often connected with him, or involving him, or just him outright, filling her brain with memories of their life together.

It hurt. She hated that she'd lost him. She'd missed out on years of House and the happiness that came with him because... she'd been wrong. She did ask him to change too much and he did try and she didn't give back. Their break up and his subsequent move to California was her fault.

She knew that she wasn't going to want to leave him again. She knew that now, before she even saw him. For her, that wasn't a problem. She was no spring chicken and she'd been doing the same job for a _long _time. She did still love her job, but... it was just a job now. It wasn't her life anymore; she didn't get the same kick out of it that she used to. She didn't feel compelled to go back. Sure, she'd have to work. Her mind wouldn't allow for her to lose the stimulation of working, but it could be another job. She didn't feel tied to PPTH. If anything, she thought she might like to start working with patients again - find the humanity in Medicine that she hadn't experienced for years.

The politics and the money and the malpractice suits made Medicine into a corporate machine for her. These days she rarely got time to help out in the clinic and so didn't get to meet patients in any form, apart from when they were suing the hospital. Then, she'd have to be the big bad bitch who fought them for more money than they could dream of owning and usually won, even though most of the suits were valid.

As the car drove across the empty stretch of road, Cuddy felt herself start to cry. Not a flood of sobs and tears, just a few, sliding down her cheeks. She was achingly close to the thing she was realising she wanted more than _anything. _Thinking of her life - and how unsatisfying it was to her now - made her want House even more. He was a part of her life that she'd neglected and was now the only thing that she really had any passion for.

Sniffing to stop the onslaught of tears, she disturbed Rachel. Waking from her slumber, she rubbed her eyes and squinted at the Sun. "Mom," she groaned, "what time is it?" She flopped back on the seat, putting her feet against the window.

"Ten," Cuddy replied, frantically trying to sort herself out before her daughter noticed that something was wrong. She fixed her eyes on the road, wiping her cheeks clear with one hand. "You slept well?"

"Yeah," Rachel yawned, "as well as you can in the back of a car."

"That's my girl," Cuddy smirked, checking her in the mirror quickly for any signs of redness. Fortunately, her crying had been short enough that she looked as composed as ever. Swallowing, she turned around. "Come up here," she beckoned. "Keep me company."

Rachel clambered as elegantly as a drunk gorilla into the front seat, catching her foot and crashing into the dashboard. Cuddy giggled as Rachel ended up slumped against the window, one foot lightly colliding with Cuddy's shoulder and the other twisting awkwardly beneath her. Cuddy snorted. "See? This is why I put you in gymnastics when you were five."

"And I hated the whole experience," Rachel supplied. "Every bendy second."

"At least you looked cute in a leotard," Cuddy commiserated. "That's why I put you in ballet as well."

"Ugh," Rachel groaned. "I can't believe you kept the video of that."

"One of my proudest moments as a parent. Those hundred seconds of you on stage in Swan Lake are among that happiest my life," Cuddy told her, grabbing her sunglasses from the floor and putting them on her head.

"Then you haven't had a very happy life," Rachel answered. "Those hundred seconds are probably the most _humiliating_ of my life."

"You're young," Cuddy told her. "You don't know what humiliation is yet."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Thanks for that cheery piece of information."

Cuddy said nothing, kept driving. Rachel settled into the seat, staring out of the window. Then she jumped up. "I'm bleeding!"

Cuddy snapped her head round to see. "What happened? From the dashboard?"

"No, it's a far more womanly injury." Cuddy saw the blood stain on the inside of Rachel's shorts. "Do you have anything, Mom?"

"Not with me," Cuddy told her. "I... didn't think of my cycle, let alone yours."

Rachel looked at the vast expanse of empty space stretching out in front of her. She knew that there wouldn't be anywhere to buy a pad or tampon for miles... not a little convenience store, not even a public toilet with a machine to dispense them. "Crap," she said. "I'm going to bleed on the seats."

"It's okay sweetie," Cuddy told her, stroking her arm. "These things happen. At least you're not pregnant," she winked. "There's a plus."

"That's impossible. You have to have sex to get pregnant," Rachel said absentmindedly, like it was nothing.

Cuddy took in that information. "So... you've never..."

Rachel gave her a look. "No, Mom, haven't popped my cherry just yet."

Cuddy breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. You're... so young. I don't want you to rush into something you're not ready for. Not losing it on whim doesn't make you a prude, or frigid. It's just you taking control of your own sexuality. There's nothing wrong with that."

"I know," Rachel said, rolling her eyes. "We've had all the pep talks at school. They made me take Health class."

Cuddy chuckled. "Honey, they don't really teach you about sex in Health class. They teach you the mechanics. Sex... is a _very _powerful thing. It's not just something people do - it's a really important part of most relationships. Not always in the same way..." She trailed off. "Look, from my experience, sex can really fuck a person up. The need for it and the aftermath. I don't want you to end up in a bad situation when you're so young."

"Like, pregnant with the guy in the other direction?"

"No... Pregnancy, sure, I don't want that to be you just yet. And STDs all that stuff... but the connection a sexual relationship can give to two people can be... _too _strong. Sex is a weapon - and not in a criminal sense. I mean, between two consenting adults, sex... is part of the game. It's a great thing, but it has to be used carefully. I don't mean cheating. Even without meaning to, people can get hurt."

Rachel furrowed her eyebrows. "Maybe that's just you."

Cuddy thought. "Maybe it is," she agreed. "Think you can handle the knowledge that I have sex?"

"The walls are thin," Rachel told her. "So yeah, I've _evolved _to handle it."

Cuddy stopped, a little horrified. "That wasn't what I meant."

"I'm well aware," Rachel snickered. "You had something to say?"

Cuddy couldn't bring herself to carry on this conversation after that. Her daughter... could _hear... _She shuddered. "It doesn't matter. Just stop talking."

Rachel laughed. "You can't the knowledge that I can handle knowledge that you have sex," she said cheerily. "Mom, it's not a big deal. Sex happens. God knows enough of my friends are thinking about it."

"And you're not?" Cuddy asked, too curious not to.

"Of course I am," she said pragmatically. "But, realistically, I don't want to wake up one morning naked with a hangover in some guy's bed."

"Thank God for that," Cuddy sighed. Her daughter was so mature. Cuddy had certainly not had this attitude to sex as a teenager. The need to rebel against her parents, to prove her worth to herself, to please others... lead to some unpleasant early sexual experiences.

"So..." Rachel smiled craftily. "When was your first time?"

Cuddy raised her eyebrows. "Back when the dinosaurs were around."

"Don't deflect. And don't take my jokes," Rachel warned. "You started this conversation. You wanted to know - "

" - No, I didn't..."

" - If I've been having sex. I haven't. But what you just said... you've probably got some long winding story about your sex life through your life - something I'm _not_ asking to hear - but the way you talk about it... You had to have started somewhere." She looked out. "It'll make this car ride more interesting."

Cuddy drove in silence a little longer, debating internally. Rachel was daydreaming. "I was your age," Cuddy broke the silence, jerking Rachel out of her reverie. "He'd been my boyfriend for... God, I can't remember... Three months? I... didn't have the energy to say no anymore." She looked Rachel straight in the eye. "And that is _not _that right reason to do it."

"I'm sorry, Mom," Rachel said. "That it sucked," she clarified.

"It didn't suck," Cuddy chuckled lightly. "Okay, the first time did. But, honey, I've had plenty of good - great - sex in my life. You don't need to feel sorry for me."

Rachel shrugged. "I like being able to talk to you like this."

Cuddy turned to her. "What do you mean?"

"So many of my friends just fight with their parents and complain about how unfair they are, or how dumb they are, or how they don't understand anything. True, we are like that sometimes, but... I like knowing you not just as Mom." Rachel smiled. "I like that I get to know who you are as a person and not just as a parent."

Cuddy wanted to sweep Rachel up in her arms. "That might just be the sweetest thing you've ever said to me."

"I love you," Rachel offered.

"I love you too," Cuddy replied. After years of her mother and sister criticising her parenting to no end... It was times like now that she got confirmation that she hadn't completely screwed up her daughter. Their relationship was better than most of the other mothers and daughters Cuddy knew - to know that she'd succeeded at the _most _important thing was a bigger relief than she'd ever felt before.

* * *

><p>Lucas tore through the doors at PPTH, striding across the lobby and through the clinic. He stormed through the doors into Cuddy's office - despite the shouts from the nurses - and looked around frantically. The office looked the same as it usually did, nothing appeared to be taken. She hadn't stopped here before she'd gone, he assumed. That would have been too dangerous.<p>

Just as Lucas was preparing to rifle through the desk drawers, Wilson opened the door. "Lucas?"

He turned. "James."

Both men had been forced to spend time together - the best friend and boyfriend of one woman. Cuddy and Wilson were as close now as House and Wilson were then. Lucas was sure that Wilson knew things about his and Cuddy's relationship that should have been private. Narrowing his eyes at the man, Lucas sneered.

Wilson was just confused. "What are you doing?"

"Sitting in my girlfriend's office," he replied. "What does it look like?"

Wilson sighed and put his hands on his hips. "Is she okay?"

"How the Hell would I know?" Lucas spat. "She took off without a word. I have no idea where she is, or what she's doing... I don't even know if she's alright." He looked away, ashamed from his outburst. "Did she say anything to you?"

Wilson studied Lucas carefully. Part of him was sure that Lucas had something to do with Cuddy leaving. The other part thought that, as her fiancé, he deserved to know. Cuddy hadn't told him anything about why she'd gone and hadn't specified to keep it a secret from Lucas... it was majorly out of character but still a complete mystery. And Lucas did seem like he was about to tear his hair out.

"She called me a few days ago. Told me to take care of things and hung up."

Lucas stopped. "That's it?"

"That's it."

The two men looked at each other for second before Wilson continued. "If you do get hold of her, tell that she needs to call me. She can't just... take off like that. The Board's mad as Hell and I'm drowning here. I've got no idea how she does it."

Lucas nodded. "Fine. But if _you _get hold of her, tell that she needs to call _me. _I'm worried, James. This isn't like her. She just took Rachel and left and I have no idea why." He left out that hitting part - didn't think that Wilson would be so helpful if he knew about that.

"Lucas..." Wilson sighed. "Maybe she needed a break."

Lucas sighed. "She's going to see House, isn't she?"

Wilson froze. In all honestly, that thought had crossed his mind once but he'd dismissed it. Cuddy wasn't impulsive like that. He had no doubt that they still loved each other - one of the many reasons why he didn't like being with Lucas - but for her to drop everything and run away to see him? It was too implausible.

But now it was making more sense. This whole situation was implausible - why should she not be headed to him? Thinking about it, it actually made a lot of sense. Especially these last six months, Cuddy had been mentioning House more. A case here, a diagnosis there. Wilson knew that she missed him - not least because she'd told him that directly over the third bottle of wine a few weeks ago at dinner.

"I don't know," Wilson answered honestly. "She didn't say anything to me."

"_Now,_" Lucas stressed. "What about last month? Last week?"

Wilson wavered. But of course, the decision was an easy one. The truth was that mentions of House had been frequent lately, but Wilson was looking at Lucas now and was more sure than ever that he had something to do with her sudden upping and leaving. "No. Nothing."

Lucas looked crestfallen. "I'm worried."

"We all are," Wilson replied, more coldly than necessary.

"I don't know what I'd do without her," he continued. "I love her so much. I need her."

Wilson crossed his arms defensively. "Why don't you switch the pronouns? You keep saying I this and I that. What about her? Happy women don't just take off with no word to where they're going. Change it to she. Think about what _she _wants."

Lucas stared at him, anger clouding his face. "She's _my _fiancée - "

"And _my _best friend," Wilson said defiantly. "I care about her. Do you?"

"Of course I do!" Lucas protested.

Wilson shook his head and walked toward the door. "I'm not so sure about that," he replied, before slamming the door behind him.

* * *

><p>House shut the front door behind him a little after eight. The three guys were lounging around on the couch, drinking beer and talking loudly about some new waitress at the bar they liked to frequent. Throwing a can at him before he'd taken a step, House caught the drink happily and took a long gulp.<p>

"Evening Doc," Buck smirked. "Done good today?"

"As good as I always do," he replied, sinking down next to them. They continued to talk, but House's mind was somewhere else. Cuddy and Rachel should be approaching Rockville soon enough, one more stop after that and then they were going to be here. He was going to see her again.

With that thought came a feeling of panic. After being so cool about it he was psyching himself out - he didn't like it. He didn't like how much control this woman still had over him.

After the conversation lulled he jumped in. "I was going to put them up in the back bedroom."

"This is a big place," Archer alternated. "They could have their own rooms."

"But if I do that then she's got no motivation to come sleep in my room with me," he explained jokingly, and the guys chuckled. "Anyway, it's not like she or the kid knows anyone. Better to put them together."

Buck nodded. "Whatever makes you happy, man."

Buck was no kid. He was a large man - not fat. Just... broad. His shoulders were defined and muscled from years of manual labour, his face well worn from too much time spent in the Sun. He may have been nearing forty five but he had the stamina and athleticism of a twenty year old. His full name was something pretentious like William Buckley Harris III - a title he'd spent his whole life trying to lose. House knew little of Buck's past (the same as with himself and the others) but had gathered that his father had been angling for yet another Yale graduate and Buck had sent him a fat Fuck You by running away and starting a farm in the middle of California, a far cry from his Boston upbringing.

Archer was the middle man, at thirty four. House still didn't know how Buck and Arch came together - something about beer and a bet. All he knew was that they'd been working together for over fifteen years and they trusted each other more than anyone. Patrick was twenty five, the infant. He was capable and skilled and that was all that mattered. House knew that his parents lived a town or two over, but for the most part Patrick was one of them. House had been around when Patrick had been hired. He was a good kid.

Actually, they were all good guys. They'd taken him in without a moment's thought. He'd been a mess. Drinking, drugs (stronger stuff than Vicodin) and gambling. He'd passed out one day and woken up on a couch in a farm house in the middle of a place he'd never been.

He'd never looked back.

Quickly he'd become accustomed to living there. It was a big place - twice as many bedrooms as needed for four people, animals running around like nobody's business and a huge orchard. The apples were a massive contributor to the farm's income.

He'd taken a month to just _be. _No alcohol or drugs, but no torturing himself with memories of Cuddy and Wilson either. He'd helped a little around the place - and quickly concluded that he wasn't built for manual labour - before smartening up, heading to the nearest hospital and bagging himself a position as Head of Nephrology. Despite having spent so long being a Diagnostician, he did still have a double board certification in Nephrology and Infectious Disease that he'd never really thought about.

His work quickly turned the way he wanted it to. It was a mere six months before everyone was turning to him for help on their most difficult cases - so he balanced his practice. His patients on one side, his extra diagnostics work on the other. Perfect.

He hadn't changed that much. He was an ass - but he was respected in a way he wasn't at PPTH. Not by his subordinates (they still knew of and feared the great Gregory House) but by his colleagues. Same as with his roommates. They didn't treat him like a damaged jackass so he didn't act like one for the most part. He had his own business and they didn't meddle. House knew it was just because they didn't care in the way Cuddy and Wilson had but he liked to think it was because they trusted his judgement - and not just his medical one, but his personal one too.

He'd come to Apple Valley for three reasons: 1) He was desperate. 2) He liked apples. 3) Their motto was, _A better way of life. _

God knows he'd needed it.

* * *

><p>Cuddy and Rachel were tired. Tired of driving, tired of not eating enough, tired of sleeping on the backseat of a car. They'd been spending all their money on petrol and there hadn't been much left after that for anything else so both were feeling low and in need of some relaxation. Unfortunately, the day didn't seem inclined to give it. The heat raged through the air, scalding their throats if they tried to talk. Due to this they settled on saying nothing, letting the day draw to a close as they parked on the side of the road for the night.<p>

They were out of the way of any passing traffic. It was getting late and Cuddy wanted to pick up the next letter early the next day - she laid her head on the seat and shut her eyes, wincing at the heat. It was too much.

After half an hour of trying to sleep Rachel sat up. "This is crazy."

"Give it another minute," Cuddy instructed.

"I did. Ten minutes ago. Mom!" Rachel shook her shoulder. "This car is making it ten times hotter. Turn the air-con on."

"We can't without putting the key in and that'll run down the battery," Cuddy explained. "Last thing we need is for the car to die on us now."

Rachel shook her head. "I'm sleeping outside," she decided, getting out and laying herself down beside the car on the cool grass.

"What are you doing?" Cuddy hissed.

"Cooling down," Rachel whispered back. "Come try it. I don't need you cranky in the morning."

Cuddy sighed but relented, climbing out and locking the doors. She lay her head next to Rachel, lifting her arm up so her daughter could cuddle closer, resting her head on Cuddy's chest. The cicadas chirped and the air whistled. It was silent.

Rachel's breathing evened out quickly but Cuddy stayed awake. It was at least another hour before her mind stopped whirring and she finally succumbed to sleep.

* * *

><p>Cuddy strode into Rockville's only post office with purpose the next morning. After a fitful night she was determined more than ever to reach him - she couldn't wait any more.<p>

She collected the letter and settled outside in the morning sun to read.

_Cuddy,_

_This place has no significance to us. I picked it because it was a good distance for the next chunk of your trip, and small enough to only have one post office. I'd hate for you to miss a letter and just come straight here, all pissy and dejected because I forgot about you. Anyway, you'd never hear what I had to say as there's no way I'm ever going to say this aloud. _

_This one is focused again on one night - but this time it's one of the worst nights of my life. I'm not going to lie to you, Cuddy. I'm going to tell the whole story of the night I hallucinated you... and everything that happened because of it. _

_I'd been seeing Amber. She'd been taunting me - teasing. You know how I hate to be teased. I couldn't stand her laughing. I began ruling off all of the things it could be, leaving the Vicodin for last. I knew it was the Vicodin. I just... couldn't let go. _

_I know why my mind hallucinated you. You were the only person who I could count on to help me without making me feel like an invalid. You were the one person who I trusted to look after me. To help me. The way - in my mind - you seamlessly accepted my request and came with me... this just fuelled how right I was in depending on you. _

_After you called your nanny and told her to stay with Rachel we went back to my apartment. I was in pain. You sat me on the couch and got me a drink, then proceeded to comb the rooms, checking for Vicodin. You even tested me, checking that I wasn't lying about where it was. I guess it was my subconscious reassuring me that you wouldn't forget anything, you would be thorough. _

_You wouldn't give me anything less than your best. _

_I was crying. I don't cry, but the pain... it was indescribable. Even though it wasn't real it was one of the worst pains I'd ever felt. You held my hand and told me everything was going to be okay. I'd hit an all time low - it was over. I was going to have to stop taking Vicodin and that meant the pain was going to get worse. So bad, I wouldn't be able to function. I was going to lose everything. _

_We spent the night together. Oh, get your mind out of the gutter (at least for another few hours in story-time) and just listen. We sat in my bathroom for hours, my head being stuck over the toilet and you rubbing my arm and soothing me. It was as if you understood... which I was guess was because I created you, and no one understood my pain better than me. It just showed me how much I needed someone - I needed you. _

_After a while we migrated back to the living room, me falling into some much needed sleep while you drifted off yourself. I woke you to reading a magazine on my small couch, eyes red as if you'd not slept much. _

_My leg pain had dulled to a throb and I, amazingly, didn't want to reach for the Vicodin. Of course, it was because it was a hallucination, but I didn't know that. I was sober and happy and I had you to thank for it. After only exchanging a few words you were ready to leave. I couldn't let that happen. _

_It only took one look for you to know what I wanted. You said after a split-second, "you want to kiss me, don't you?" I did. I always do. And you wanted it too. It was only another moment before our lips were fused together. _

_I was exploring your mouth and sliding my hands into your hair and pulling you toward me, feeling your heartbeat against my chest. Now, put your mind back into the gutter and imagine all the dirty things we did to each other. My mind came up with some pretty kinky stuff - nothing on actual you. Remind me to track down your yoga instructor and thank him._

_I spent the next day floating on air. Remember me on the first day of our real relationship? That's what I was like in my own head. You and me, together. Finally. And then it wasn't real, my head was failing me, and my leg was getting worse. I had nothing. _

_You were my everything. Whether you were real or not you saved me that night. I'll be grateful to you for everything you did for me, perjuring yourself, countless lies and overlooks and second chances. You've done so much for me over the years and while I like to think I've given you things in return I know that that's not necessarily true. You've never turned me away. Thank you, Cuddy. _

_One more stop. Las Vegas - I know you know where to go. _

_House_

_PS, I'm tired of this. Let's just agree never to mention these. _


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: The disaster that was 7x23 DID NOT HAPPEN in my world. NO. Enjoy :) **

* * *

><p>House sat on the freshly made bed in one of the guest rooms. He'd done nothing special for them - it had to look like he didn't care that much. Like he'd just thrown a few things together and forgot they were coming. In reality, nothing could be further from the truth.<p>

He hoped it looked homely enough for the pair of them. His Cuddy and the Lesser Cuddy. House was lost at thoughts of Rachel. The last time he'd seen her she'd been a toddler, barely talking and clumsily walking. Now, she was fifteen. A woman in her own right... He finally got to feel the wrath of two Cuddy women.

Toying gently with the comforter, House thought back to the last time he'd seen her. Too many years ago. He'd told her in the last moment of their last conversation that he was leaving. She'd been stunned into silence, then she'd embraced him. She said she'd miss him.

He hoped that was true. He was baring his deepest thoughts in these letters and he had no idea how she was responding. She could be laughing at him... He doubted it, but it was a possibility. In all truth, he liked to pretend that he still knew her but realistically he understood that that wasn't necessarily true. A lot could happen to person in such a long time. Although House firmly believed that people never changed he had to accept that the Cuddy he was about to meet might not be the same Cuddy he said goodbye to all those years ago.

The thought terrified him.

He needed the woman he was so in love with to still be there. The smart, feisty, sexy lady who'd been captivating him since med school couldn't have disappeared - he refused to believe it. Entertaining that thought would only lead to worry and doubt and it would drive him insane. Should his fears be unfounded, he'd hate to be a wreck when she arrived, and sent her shooting off back to New Jersey.

A knock jerked him out of his reverie. "Man," Archer said quietly, "you've gotta chill out."

House scowled. "I _am _chilled out."

"Right," Archer scoffed. "You've been up here for an hour to make two beds. No stressing at all."

"You try mattress flipping with a bum leg," House snarked. "As hard as you think it is, it's harder."

"Bullshit," Archer smirked. "There's no way in hell you flipped that mattress. No one's _that _special."

"That's what your mom said," House replied. "She was always okay with sleeping on the wet spot."

Archer thought. "That didn't make any sense."

"It's morning. Give me some coffee and few minutes and I'll show you an insult that'll take off your eyebrows it burns so bad," House replied, stifling a yawn.

Archer chuckled. "Whatever, man. Just... don't freak out too much when the chicks get here. If they're half as excited to see you as you are to see them, it'll all be fine." He entered the room slowly, and sunk down on the opposite bed. "So... What's the deal with her? Who is she?" Archer said, in a way that let House know he'd been wanting to ask it for a while.

"Just this woman I knew, way-back-when," House replied non-committedly.

"House... no one gets this worked up over 'some woman,'" Archer told him. "You don't need to hide it. We're your friends."

"So tweedledum and tweedledee are asking as well," House sighed. "Perfect."

"It's _interesting. _The great lone wolf actually has people in his life," Archer whistled. "It's like Christmas came early. I can't wait to interrogate her."

"Oh God," House groaned. Then he smirked. "I warn you, she doesn't take crap from anyone." House remembered again, thinking back to the fights they'd had, sparring with each other until the sexual tension became too much and one of them had had to leave. Arguing until they were red in the face...

"You love her."

House jerked out of his head. "What?"

"This woman. You love her."

"I don't."

"Jeez, did you see your face just then? You may as well have shouted it out loud," Archer told him. "Seriously, it's okay. What's her name?"

"Jenna Jameson."

"Ha ha," Archer snarked. "Very funny. Seriously?"

"You wanted the name of the woman I'm in love with!" House cried indignantly. "That's her. The perfect woman."

Archer shook his head. "We're going to meet her eventually," he rationalised. "You might as well get it over with now."

"Fine." He blew out a breath. "Lisa."

There was a silence. "That's it?" Archer asked, surprised.

"You wanted her name," House shrugged. "I'm just giving the people what they want."

"You're impossible."

"Thank you," House smirked. "Fine, Lisa Cuddy. Dean of Medicine at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, the land where I hail from. Long time boss, short time girlfriend. Constant sexy lady," he smiled. "Coming with her kid, fifteen year old daughter. Should be fun."

Archer frowned. "Are you suddenly incapable of using full sentences?"

"Might agree," House fake-pondered. "Now, go away."

"Busy?" Archer said sarcastically. "Of course not. Unlike me. I've got stuff to do today... Who knows if you're going to end up going to the hospital at all."

"I'll go," House replied. Archer waved and left, clumping down the stairs. House did start to get up and get ready for work, if only to take his mind off his approaching arrivals.

* * *

><p>Lucas rolled down his window as his car sped along the road, trying to get some cool air in. He was flushed and sweating, and his hands could barely grip onto the steering wheel. Although it was getting dark, he felt like he couldn't pull over, couldn't sleep... He couldn't stop going until he'd found her again.<p>

He was going to California, to find House and, he hoped, Cuddy. It killed him that he knew without a shadow of a doubt that _his _fiancée was headed to another man.

House had always been a point of contention between the two of them. Even though he hadn't been in the picture for years, Lucas saw the look in Cuddy's eye when House was on her mind. It made him mad, but whenever he'd confront her about it she'd get defensive and deny it.

The last straw had been when Lucas had been woken in the night by Cuddy having a _sex dream _about _House. _She'd been moaning and smiling and saying his name... Lucas had stormed out of the room and slept on the couch instead of waking her up. He hadn't had the energy to hear the lies and the excuses and know that she didn't really want to be in their relationship anymore.

Staying together... at this point Lucas had no idea why. He was - for the most part - happy. He loved her. She was beautiful and smart and sexy as hell and he'd really thought that their second chance would stick. It hadn't been a real decision, it had just happened. And no matter how long they'd been together, Lucas always had the feeling that, for her, their relationship was... comfortable.

She still wouldn't marry him. After proposing - again - he'd felt like they could be the perfect family. They'd have (or adopt) another baby or two, he'd become Rachel's legal father, get married and live in cute little house and she'd be the boss and he'd be successful and they would be happy.

It wasn't like that.

Rachel hated him. Fine, hate was a strong word, but she had never taken to him. She certainly was never going to let him be any kind of father to her. Rachel and Cuddy had an interesting relationship. The kind of closeness that a stable single mother and her daughter have. He'd wanted to make them a family, but Rachel was having none of it. The snotty little princess would pout and roll her eyes and Cuddy would merely snicker, and reassure him that she was just a teenager.

It was also clear that they wouldn't be having anymore children. Cuddy was past the age of carrying biologically, and refused to get her eggs screened to see if surrogacy could have been an option. That should have stopped him once and for all, but still, he pushed. Adoption? He suggested, but she said that she couldn't go through another adoption if there was a chance it would fall through. Lucas had tried to reassure her, but she'd firmly said no. And that was the end of the discussion.

He could feel himself getting frustrated and angry just remembering. No wonder he'd lashed out. Seeing the look on her face, though, after his hand had a collided with it... He'd felt like the devil. He'd wanted to get down on his knees and beg and grovel and treat her like gold for the rest of life. Cuddy just kicked him in the balls and left. The speed with which she ran away made him feel like she'd been _looking _for a reason to go. And a reason to kick him in the balls.

It wasn't as if she was doing anything else to them. Everyone assumed - mainly because Lucas hinted at it constantly - that their sex life could rival that of a teenager's. In truth, she usually spurned his advances. Sure, back at the beginning, it had been great. She'd been vibrant and happy and they'd enjoyed being reconciled and in love. Soon, her libido dwindled until the times that they did have sex became far and few between. He thought back to her recent dream... That was the Cuddy he used to see. Her face flushed and she was smiling, it was clear that she could be aroused like that...

Just not by him.

Lucas slammed a fist on the wheel. _She's probably having sex with House right now._ He slowed that car, trying to get that thought out of his head. He pulled over, and, breathing heavily, went into a bar. He stumbled in and the first thing his eyes settled on was a couple making out in a booth. Immediately, his mind saw Cuddy and House in their places. Ignoring the confused waitresses he ran straight back out. His chest was heaving as he sped of into the night, full speed.

He was going to find her.

* * *

><p>Cuddy and Rachel entered into Vegas as night was nearing. The drive had been uneventful, peppered with chitchat and pointless word games. Both were just trying to pass the time. It was obvious to Rachel that Cuddy was preoccupied with memories and excitement. Everything that Rachel said seemed to go straight over her head.<p>

They pulled into a little motel. Rachel couldn't but wish that her mother had bought her credit cards. She knew that they could easily afford to stay in one of the amazing hotels with rides running through them and other things Rachel would have loved to try.

They went into their room, Cuddy sitting on the bed and sighing. She'd told Rachel earlier that she was headed to a casino. It wasn't going to be his letter story, of that she was sure. It was one time place he'd been and delighted in telling her about for at least year after. The money, the girls, the oxygen pumped to make you seem alert. He'd told her that she'd missed out big time. Of course, this was decades ago. But, still, as soon as he said Vegas she'd known.

Rachel eyed her mother carefully. "Shouldn't you get ready to go?"

Cuddy nodded, but lay back on the bed. "I guess," she said, sounding... disappointed?

"What is it?" Rachel asked. "What's wrong?"

Cuddy shook her head. "I want to _get there,_" she admitted after a moment. "No more games, no more running around. Get the letter and go." She shrugged. "I don't see why I shouldn't. He just wants me to go and have a good time for the evening. It's not going to _achieve _anything. I think I'll stay here, sleep, and we'll go in the morning."

She shut her eyes, but was jerked up by a pillow hitting her in the head. "Hey!" She protested. "These motel pillows are like rocks. Be careful."

"Mom!" Rachel laughed incredulously. "He set this up for you. He's given you this trip, exactly as he planned it, because it's important to him that you've done these things before you see him. This is _obviously _as important to him as it is to you. You _can't _give up now."

Cuddy watched her daughter. "You're so _annoying_," she smiled. Then she nodded. "Don't open the door."

"I won't," Rachel promised. "Have fun."

Cuddy winked. "Don't wait up."

* * *

><p>As soon as she entered the casino, she felt like it was a mistake. She looked like a tramp and she had next to no money - not quite what you're looking for in a casino-goer. She shook her and laughed at the dirty looks people shot her way. Most days, she was polished and perfect Dean of Medicine. No one would dare look at her the way they were at that moment. Cuddy thought she would have felt exposed and wouldn't have liked it, but, instead, it felt... refreshing.<p>

Like she really was someone else.

She was holding twenty bucks in her clenched hand, and that was it. She made her way to the bar and ordered a cocktail. Sipping it contently - under the watchful and confused eye of the bartender - she watched the people running past. She didn't have the money nor the want to participate in the games.

The night went on and Cuddy relished the thought that within the next two days, everything would change again. She had _no _idea where this was going - for her, House or her daughter. She would be attached to him for the rest of her life.

The thought that one day, twenty, thirty years from now, she'd tried to see him again and someone would tell her that he'd died... She felt her chest constrict. They only had so many chances at this before it would be too late.

She didn't want to wake up one morning and find out that he wasn't there anymore.

As the clock showed the early hours, Cuddy thought of her greatest memories of him. Of them. She must have looked a sight, crazy hair and dirty skin - and a glazed expression. She was overwhelmed with sadness, suddenly. It hurt. What her life had turned into hurt. She was _so _unsatisfied. She needed a new life.

Day broke the next day before she knew it. She'd literally sat there all night, thinking. Not quite the evening out House would have been hoping for, but good nonetheless. As she rose from her seat, she was shocked to feel tears on her cheeks.

She was shocked to feel how much she needed this.

She arrived at the neighbouring post-office in record time, trying to stop the onslaught of tears. She didn't want this time to end badly. She didn't want to screw this up again.

_Cuddy,_

_When you turned up in my bathroom that night you were suddenly the only thing in the whole world that mattered. It was you, or the Vicodin. I chose you - of course I did. That was easy, I didn't want to go back on drugs and I did want you. Simple. I was scared that night, scared because I was getting everything I wanted. That never happens - that's pretty much where my whole world view comes from. How could I not be scared that you were changing everything I thought I knew but I still wanted you so much? _

_As we stood in my bedroom, holding hands and looking at each other, I felt simultaneously unimaginably calm and panicked. I did not want you to be a hallucination. I couldn't handle that - not again. The last hallucination ended with the reality of you with Lucas, this one would end with the reality of you marrying him. That... I couldn't have taken that. You were supposed to be with me. _

_The you leaned forward and kissed my scar. You will never understand what that did to me, Cuddy. That part of me is ugly. It's the part I hide away from everyone because it makes me look weak. It puts me in constant pain, and I hate it more than anything... And you didn't care. You loved it as you loved me. I hate to be vulnerable around anyone, least of all you, and I was at my most vulnerable then with my thigh exposed. You kissed it. You didn't think it was ugly and that meant the world to me. _

_As I kissed you after that I felt so... euphoric. I drew your shirt over your head, taking in your perfect form. You were so beautiful. I picked you up and laid you on the bed, watching your face relax and smile as I loomed over you. Making love after so many years apart was like rediscovering water. I'd forgotten the intricacies of our intimacy, but as it came flooding back to me I knew I couldn't live without it ever again. I wanted to love you in every way, and I wanted you to know that. _

_That first day was everything I needed. It was you and me and nothing else. It didn't matter that the hospital was falling apart without you. I spent that whole day - until the end - half convinced I was dreaming. You were in my bed, in my arms, in my bathtub looking all soapy-sexy - I kept telling myself, "this can't be happening." I was so afraid to let myself just enjoy it, it took me the whole day to muster up the strength to just admit that I loved you. I'm not going to lie - it hurt when you didn't drop everything and come to France with me. It's not your fault, don't beat yourself up. To me that day didn't exist within the confines of life. It was as if there were no consequences. _

_Work was always going to be hard. For you it was about losing the control you worked so hard to gain over me. For me it was not losing the red-hot connection we'd always had. I was so terrified - I thought the sexual tension was going to disappear and I hated that idea. If there was sexual tension, we'd just... have sex. And as good as the sex was - and it was GOOD, don't you worry - I didn't want to lose the parts of us that made us us. _

_The fight we had let me know that we'd make it, work-wise. Your eyes glittered and you shouted and I wanted to fuck you right there on the floor. I don't know if you were as turned on as I was but you were definitely mad - your eyes were almost popping out of your head. It's very sexy, I admit, but it never leads to something good. And then... it did. The patient made their choice and we went home, together. Holding hands/your ass. And it was just... better. The sexual tension was still there but after the fight we actually got to have sex and then I got to talk to you. Really talk. I know you probably thought I didn't listen to you (everyone thought that) but I promise you I did. I didn't want to miss a thing, I was so scared it would be over so soon... And I guess I was right. But onto that later._

_It was hard to figure out our relationship, I'm not going to pretend it was easy. We knew how important it was and we were trying our hardest. Cuddy, it should have worked. I'm not going to go into this massively now (I'm saving for a whole other paragraph) but YOU gave up on US. Sure, I did some things. I'm not saying I'm blameless, but I tried so hard you can't imagine. I know our date was bad - Sam and Wilson are just big kids. I wanted you to have fun and I didn't want you to be bored by me... If we were anything, it wasn't boring. I couldn't have our relationship turn into that. I know you got hurt but you can't deny it was kind of funny. Who else would take you go-karting? _

_I know you think I didn't compromise for you but just think about it. My leg is the worst thing in my life. I found a masseuse that made it feel better and you asked me to give her up because I used to have sex with her. I'll admit now that when I think about it it sounds kind of ridiculous but I did it. I gave her up, and never called that physical therapist you suggested. There was no way that I was going to risk losing you because of something I hated... but I did. You knew what it was to me to stop my leg hurting and you asked and I conceded. Just one instance of where I caved for you, if you're going to start counting._

_I'm... excited (?) to see Rachel. I guess more curious than excited. Despite anything I may have said or done you are a great mom. And Rachel's a great kid. I can't wait to see how much you've screwed her up... Joking! Seriously, I want to see what she's turned into. I know I wasn't comfortable around her - kids still freak the hell out of me - but I did try. I think it's safe to admit this now - Rachel had played Feed the Monkey before. When I found out about how competitive this preschool was I wanted to make you happy and get her in. So I coached her. I thought she was as dumb as a bag of wet hair (no offence) and I was freaked out that she was going to get rejected and you were going to cry... I've ALWAYS hated to see you cry. Yeah, fine, sometimes I caused those tears but I always felt bad about it. If that's any consolation. _

_Anyway, your kid may not be the smartest, or the prettiest, or the fastest or whatever (I don't know, I haven't seen her in over a decade. She could be all of those things... I wouldn't be surprised) but she'll always have that natural lying ability. See? Something to be proud of right there. _

_I love that I'm going to have years of you to catch up on. I have always searched for new information on you, I crave that knowledge. I don't know how I managed to suppress the need to know you for so long. You thought that I was upset that you were married before, but of course I wasn't. I was just interested, like so many other things that you do interest me. You're like an addiction. I must understand you. I must understand why you do things because then I can show you that I am right for you... It sounds ridiculous and pathetic but it's true. I can't be assed to hide behind lies anymore. _

_I don't find it easy to change. I don't know if I even believe that people can change. But if I could, I would have changed for you. When I said that I would give up my mind for you because you were totally worth it I meant it. Being happy with you was all I wanted... I still can't believe you took that away from me. Yeah, yeah, you had your reasons but that's bullshit and you know it. It was impossibly difficult for me to be a better man for you and yet I tried. You didn't compromise. You sat there and waited for me to do all the work and then gave up. I would have fought for us. I didn't screw up our relationship. Our relationship was ALWAYS going to be screwed up. If you wanted perfect you shouldn't have come to me. Hell, if you wanted perfect you're in the wrong species. _

_You've known me since you were eighteen. In all that time you've seen my __changes (or lack there of) and you still thought that I would go to supportive, caring and open in less than a year? Seriously? All those jokes I make about you being a moron might just have been more accurate than I thought. I loved you. More than anyone or anything... more than my diagnostic ability. I put myself on the line completely and I thought you were going to die. Going to DIE. You've had me in life or death situations before and you were always scared. We weren't together so the expectations were different but still... You've almost lost me before and you've lost others. You know how it hurts. And for a bastard like me - even though it was worse for you - it was like someone was ripping my heart out. I couldn't lose you from my life. I couldn't screw this up for you and in doing so you left me... What should I have done? You'll say I should have supported you but it wasn't that easy. It hurt, Cuddy._

_We should have had a second chance. No, we should have stayed together. I do care for you more than anyone and you will always mean something to me. Always. Don't doubt that. _

_This is the last stop. You're headed to me next. Let's not screw this up again. _

_House_

_PS, more important now than ever. These letters don't exist. _


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hey dudes, sorry for the wait. Exam season's a bitch, what can I say? I do have a serious request for you now though. I have some options of how to proceed with the characterisation from here on in, but I'd love to hear your thoughts. There will be drama - I have a very elaborate plot-plan mapped out - but would you like some fluffy Huddy moments? Or LOADS of angst? Also, do you want it to become full blown super-hot-and-heavy Huddy relationship quickly, or more measured development? Review with answers :) **

* * *

><p>Cuddy stopped the car outside the rustic farmhouse, heart beating erratically and breathing speeding up. Rachel eyed her carefully. "Mom," she said gently. "Just go for it."<p>

Cuddy nodded and turned off the ignition, but stayed seated. She sighed and put her head in her hands.

Rachel stroked her back a few times. "What's stopping you?"

"Oh, I don't know," she burst out suddenly, "how about that I've abandoned my life, my job, my _fiancé, _to... to..." She leaned back against the seat. "To chase after some guy on a whim. This is crazy. I shouldn't have dragged you along, I shouldn't have _come, _I - "

"Mom!" Rachel interrupted. "Is that him?"

Cuddy whipped round. His skin was darker and his build was obviously stronger, but Cuddy immediately saw the artist's hands wrapped delicately around the cane, the arms that had once carried her to bed, the eyes that still made her weak because she knew that they could see straight through her.

Finally, House was standing a mere ten feet away from her car. "Oh my God," Cuddy muttered. "I think I'm to be sick."

"He's smirking," Rachel relayed. "He's leaning against the door and laughing at you."

Cuddy sat up and peered out. House was chuckling, and then he held her gaze. It was silent to Cuddy, the background noises of the wind, leaves and birds drowned out. Almost instinctively, she got out of the car to stand before him. They stared at each other.

The wrinkles on his face were more pronounced and his skin was darker, a deep olive tan. She could see hours spent in the Sun shown on his face and his eyes were surrounded by laughter lines, which in turn made her want to smile. The piercing blue of eyes was only accentuated by his skin and his hair looked almost identical to when she'd last seen him.

She could see his muscles through his shirt and she remembered just how strong he was. However, she looked at his hands and remembered the wonderful things he could with them. She wanted to feel them on her body, leaving a trail of heat wherever they touched.

They stared at each other. House looked her up and down. "You're wearing my shirt."

Cuddy's face broke into a wide smile. She ran forward and threw her arms around his neck, going up on her tiptoes. She breathed in his smell, buried her face in his neck, squeezed his shoulders under her arms.

House was shocked. For a moment, he stood motionless. The feel of her against him, her body pressed to his, her smell filling his head. It took him a moment to react. Then, as she let out a breath that tickled his ear, he brought his arms up around her and held her close to him.

He couldn't help but smile.

They stayed locked in their embrace for a good few moments, House becoming holding her tighter and tighter as the time passed. Cuddy was already squeezing his neck, and was blinking furiously, trying to stop her eyes watering. After her recent miserable time with Lucas and the stressful car journey, she was now reminded of just how _safe _she felt wrapped up in his arms. It was as if nothing mattered; she knew this was worth it.

As they both released after realising how long they'd been embracing, both pulled away sheepishly. Glancing at each other a few times, Cuddy stifled a giggle. They wee so awkward with each other - but she could tell that it was just because they were ashamed of how _right _this felt.

House took a step forward and placed his hands on her hips. He bent his head down, and for one wonderful, terrifying second, Cuddy thought he was going to kiss her. But of course, he merely bent his head above her breasts and said, "Boy, I've missed you two."

Cuddy rolled her eyes, but couldn't stop the smile erupting on her face. House stood again to full height, and Cuddy looked him up and down. "You look good," she commented.

"So do you," he offered. "As far as I can see, you've still got your rockin' bod. I hope you're still doing your yoga," he added, smiling lasciviously. "Be a shame if you'd be relegated to missionary _perman - _"

"House," Cuddy interrupted gently. "I mean it. It's good to see you." She hesitated. "I missed you," she said quietly.

She watched his lips, waiting for him to say it back. Just as they parted, she heard Rachel call from inside the car. "I'm _dying _in here," she yelled dramatically. "You took the car key, so the air-con's off."

Cuddy whipped round. "Come here," she called back. "He won't bite!"

"Her," House added, so only Cuddy could hear. "I'm not making any promises about you."

Cuddy felt a tingle run down her spine. "Not now," she chided. "Not in front of Rachel."

She turned round, and was surprised to see House's eyes trained to her daughter. Rachel was coming nimbly up the steps to the door, and Cuddy thought she saw the faintest glimpse of... happiness? pride? in his eyes. She knew that House had had a soft spot for Rachel, but to be honest, she hadn't considered how them coming here would affect their relationship. She didn't think they still - or ever - had one.

Rachel came to stand beside her. "Hey," she said nervously. "I'm Rachel."

House chuckled. "Yeah. I know who you are."

She nodded. "Mom says I should call you House."

"That would be my name," he nodded. They stared each other down. Rachel eyed him suspiciously. House raised an eyebrow as his gaze jumped between them. "You've raised a clone, Cuddy," he smirked. "Got the crazy eyes and everything!"

"Hey!" Both women said indignantly. "I do not have crazy eyes," Rachel finished.

Before anyone could say anything else, Patrick stuck his head out of the door. "Good morning," he smiled, coming toward them and shaking Cuddy's hand. "I'm Patrick." He looked at Rachel and smiled at her. "Hello," he said more softly, quickly eyeing her up and down. Rachel blushed. "Shall I take your things in?" He asked, looking around for bags.

Cuddy nodded gratefully. "Thank you," she said, "but, uh, we don't actually have any. Rach," she turned to her daughter, "why don't you go in with Patrick?"

"Mom - "

"Good idea," House cut in. "You can show her around."

Patrick gestured inside. "Everything's this way," he smiled, and Rachel followed him, sending a cursory glance back to her mother. Cuddy sent her a look back, eyes wide and the hint of a smile gracing her face.

As the door shut after them, House turned to Cuddy once more. "Guess I could give you a tour," he shrugged. "And you could tell me about that _lovely _looking bruise on your face."

* * *

><p>House opened the gate to the back of the house, and as Cuddy turned the corner the was immediately met with the edge of the orchard. "Wow," she breathed. "It's beautiful."<p>

House shrugged. "It's apples."

They walked for a while in silence before settling under a tree as Cuddy felt faint. "I haven't eaten properly in _days,_" she explained. "Getting food is pretty hard when you've got no money."

House chuckled. "What the _hell _happened to you back in Princeton? This is _you, _right? You don't just take off, broke, and run away on a whim." He looked pleased as he said this, fueling himself up for the puzzle, the mocking. Then he saw her eyes slide away and her hand come up to the side of her face automatically, stroking the skin next to the bruise absentmindedly.

It was then he stopped to really look at her. The beautiful woman he'd always known was still there, but this Cuddy looked _exhausted. _Her eyes were baggy and drooping, and the bruise was going from purple to a grim yellow. It extended from beside and around her eye, down her cheek and to her ear. She watched him staring, the grin gone from his face. "You wanna tell me about it?" He said softly.

She shook her head. "But I guess I have to," she said. "That was the deal, wasn't it?"

"Otherwise I'll have to kick you out," he nodded. "And we wouldn't want that. There's a lot of crazy people around here."

"There's a crazy person right in front of me," she murmured, catching his eye. She let out a slow breath. "Lucas and I had a fight. He hit me. I kicked him in the balls and left." She shrugged. "That's pretty much it."

House felt his hands clench to fists at his sides with anger. Trying to calm himself, he peered more closely at the bruise. "Come here," he ordered. "Let me take a look at it."

"It's fine, House," she scolded. "It's been almost a week."

"I'm the real doctor here," he replied. "It's my call. _Come here._"

Sighing, she shifted to so she was still in front of him, almost between his legs. Her body thrummed with excitement, being so close to him almost being too much. She wanted to reach out stroke him up and down, to take his mouth with hers and show him how much she'd missed him. She felt warmth beginning to pool between her legs as he eyed her. As his gentle, artist's fingers reached up to touch the bruise she shivered, feeling the pleasure run all the way down her spine.

"Jeez, Cuddy," House said, still probing her face. "You're practically climaxing on the spot."

She blushed furiously. "Am not," she countered, but her voice was hardly more than a whisper.

"It's okay," he shrugged. "My fingers are magic things."

She breathed slowly. "The fingers on your right hand, maybe. Can't say those fingers have touched anything distinctly feminine in a while."

He chuckled. "You don't know my life."

She smiled. His finger pushed the purplish skin and she winced. "Tender?" He asked.

"A little," she muttered. "House, I'm fine."

Hesitantly, he removed his hand from her face. They were still uncomfortably close to each other, but neither moved. For all his mocking of her, his own heart was beating faster and he knew that if she were to grab his cock at that minute, it would probably have been the quickest orgasm of his life.

As he tried to steady his arousal levels, Cuddy was picking at the grass. Her hands skirted across the ground and accidentally brushed his calf. He tried not to jump. Instead, he took hold of her hand gently and said, "so you _are_ with Lucas."

She stopped. "Not anymore," she replied.

"Does he know that?" House asked.

"I hope so. If not, I don't care." She shook her head. "I don't know why I got back together with him in the first place. I guess... I was lonely. And I couldn't just pick up a guy and see what would happen. I had Rachel, so he had to be someone I trusted." She sighed. "I don't know what I was doing."

"At least you got out before you married him," House told her.

"How did you - "

"Tan line," House gestured to her left hand. "You just took the ring off."

"When we left," she admitted. "Since he proposed - again - I refused to start planning the wedding. His mother was starting to sorely dislike me for it." She shook her head. 'I'm _tired._"

"We have a room for you upstairs," he said. "You can sleep there if you want."

"I only just got here," she said sadly. "I don't want to sleep just yet."

"I assume you'll be here for longer than this evening," he pointed out as her eyes drifted shut. "And you can barely keep your eyes open."

She murmured something non-committedly.

"Come on," he pushed gently. "It's not like I'm going anywhere. Me and my manhood will be waiting for you when you get up," he smirked.

"Yuranass," she muttered, but nodded her head.

It was as if the last week of travelling had just hit her. As soon as she'd found herself in his protection, her body had succumbed to the sleep it had been fighting for the past few nights. She wanted to talk to him - spend the whole night talking about his life, her life, and everything they'd missed. She didn't want to miss the first few moments of what she hoped was the rest of her life (not that she'd ever tell him that.)

As they trudged back to the house, Cuddy felt House's warmth radiating through her body. She nestled in closer to him, which he took to mean that she was almost asleep in his arms. "You know I can't carry you," he chuckled. "Keep your eyes open, sweetcheeks," he drawled.

He opened the back door and led her into the large kitchen, where the three men and Rachel were playing cards. "Gin!" Archer shouted, and Rachel peered at the cards in shock.

"You cheated," she decided. "Or something. There's _no way _- "

"Calm down little girl," Archer said slowly, winding her up. "Just 'cause you _lost - _"

"I did _not _lose, you cheated," Rachel argued.

Patrick and Buck both looked on, trying not to laugh. Even Cuddy had perked up a little, watching the scene unfold before them. "Again!" Rachel ordered. "Another round. And this time, I'm going to _destroy _you," she threatened. Then, she caught sight of Cuddy in her peripheral vision. "Hey Mom," she said as she shuffled the cards. "Good... walk?" she said slowly, raising an eyebrow.

It was after that comment that Patrick, Buck and Archer turned to look at Cuddy. Admittedly, she wasn't looking her best. Her hair was mussed around her bruised face and her body was dirty, covered in mud and grime. Underneath all that the three men could see that she was at least pretty, and would most likely scrub up downright stunning.

"Jeez man," Patrick smirked. "What were you two doing?"

"Believe it or not, this is what she looked like when she got here," House replied, and pulled an _ew _face.

"Travelling in a car doesn't give you ample opportunity for showering," Rachel said defensively. She didn't know House well enough to know that he was joking. To her, her mother was beautiful.

"I'm going to sleep," Cuddy said to Rachel. "Do you want to come with me?"

Rachel looked to the others. "I'm not tired just yet," she said, with an edge of hope in her voice.

Patrick nodded. "Don't worry," he said to Cuddy. "She'll be safe with us."

Cuddy nodded. "Come find me if you need me," she called back as House led her upstairs. Rachel was already dealing for another hand and barely noticed, giving a little grunt in her mother's direction.

As he led her up the deep chestnut wood staircase, Cuddy began to appreciate the beauty of the house. It was an old structure, complete with original beams and framework. The built in furniture was rustic, but the things from the boys were more modern. The second floor had a wide hallway with many doors leading off from it. Cuddy found herself wondering which room was House's.

He opened the second door on the right and they walked in a moderately large bedroom, complete with two single beds. "I thought you and Rachel would want to be together," he explained, and she nodded gratefully as she sank down onto one of the beds. The early evening sunlight streamed through the window and onto the floor, basking the room in a dusky glow. House sat on Rachel's bed as Cuddy climbed underneath the covers, still fully clothed.

He watched her head hit the pillow and her eyes close. It suddenly felt as if he were invading a private moment. He got up to leave, but he felt her hand on his arm. "You could stay," she proposed.

He wanted to, but - he couldn't. He'd known from the moment he'd laid eyes on her as she'd got out of her car that he was still completely in love with her. He resigned himself to never admitting it to her (not after it ended _so well _the last time) but he didn't want it turn back into what it was. He didn't want to be consumed for his need for her. At least, not for another few days.

"I... probably shouldn't," he replied. "You need your sleep."

She mumbled disappointedly, but merely shut her eyes tighter and rolled on her side. "Your loss," she whispered, and he saw the hint of a smirk on her face.

He stood, silent and unmoving, in the doorframe for a moment. He watching her sleep, mapping the curves of her cheeks and the curls of her eyelashes with his eyes. His gaze roamed her blanketed form. He saw the rise where her hips and breasts, and suddenly ached for an all access pass to them again.

Jerked from his trance by a falling apple outside, he turned to leave. He stopped for a second. "I missed you too," he said under his breath. "Sweet dreams."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Under a month this time! Go me. It's summer now and so hopefully I'll get some more writing time but I'm not promising anything. I hope you enjoy this chapter :) **

**I now have a formspring account: www(dot)formspring(dot)me/EllieShelly. (Replace the (dot)s with .) If you want to ask me anonymous or signed questions, feel free and check it out! **

* * *

><p>Cuddy woke to the sound of birds chirping outside her window. Rolling onto her side, she thought about the last time she'd woken to actual, breathing birds. Scrubbing a hand across her face, she stretched her arms above her head and yawned. Judging from the outside light, she assumed she'd managed to sleep all night and well into the morning.<p>

She glanced to Rachel's bed and saw the covers pushed back, evidence of someone having slept there. However, no such person was to be found. She'd awoken in the room exactly as she'd fallen asleep in it.

A shriek from outside got her attention, and she - recognising it immediately as her daughter's - jumped the window. Thrusting it open she was hit with a blast of morning heat. The sun was already shining down over the farm, bathing them all in a golden glow. Cuddy saw Rachel down beside the house, squealing as Patrick sprayed her with a hose. Cuddy felt herself relax.

It took her a moment to comprehend just where she was. She'd been so drowsy the previous evening she could barely remember arriving. The ground was cool and worn beneath her feet, the wooden panels obviously old and antique. The whole experience was so far surreal. House - _House - _was living on a farm, with three other guys, in Apple Valley in the burning heat. It was too bizarre to believe had she not seen it with her own eyes. Turning to the window she smiled as she saw Rachel bounding about with Patrick, her throwing an apple at his back and him launching himself at her, tickling her until she cried with laughter.

Immediately, Cuddy was both concerned and happy. Happy because it was clear Rachel was enjoying herself and did not yet resent her mother for bringing her here; concerned because her daughter was frolicking with a twenty five year old man. She pushed the thoughts out of her head in shame. She knew House's friends were just making an effort... Who was she to be questioning them?

_Rachel's mother, _a voice in her head whispered, but she ignored it.

Turning around Cuddy glimpsed her filthy feet, and was reminded of how badly she needed a shower. Her hair was knotty and wild; out of control in a way she rarely let happen. Then again, none of this was customary.

She dragged her feet across the floor, the bed calling to her again. Fortunately she had been conditioned to function on very little sleep and bypassed it swiftly, shutting the door behind her. She walked into the chest of a towering man, with massive, intimidating shoulders and arms the size of small trees. "Oh," she squeaked, peering up. "Sorry, I - "

"Lisa, right?" Buck asked warmly. "House's friend?"

She nodded timidly, moving back a pace to give herself more room between them.

"I'm Buck." He held out his hand for her to shake, and she shook it back firmly. "Sorry we couldn't get introduced last night. You seemed pretty out of it. Sleep well?"

It took Cuddy one sleepy moment to find her voice, but quickly she answered clearly enough. "Yes," she smiled. "Like a baby. I'm sorry for crashing so early; it'd been a long few days and I'd just... run out of energy."

"Not a problem," Buck grinned. "Sure we'll become well acquainted while you're here. Oh, and don't you worry, your girl seems to be having a whale of a time. She was up at the crack of dawn to help Patrick with the horses and has been following him around since. We assigned him to keep an eye on her, show her around, make sure she's not in any trouble."

"That's very kind of you," Cuddy returned. "She seems quite taken with the place."

"I'm glad," he replied. "Were you looking for some food?"

She was, but at that moment, all Cuddy could think about was getting the grime out of her hair. "Actually, running water," she smiled. "Any chance there's a shower round here?"

"Ours is pretty grim," Buck grimaced. "Use House's. He won't mind."

"Oh - "

"In here," Buck led her a door down the hall and guided her inside. "Through there." He pointed to a door. "Left is hot, right's cold."

She didn't have time to thank him before he shut the door. She turned round awkwardly, realising that _she was in House's room._

The bed was unmade and the blanket was shoved to the floor - as he'd got too hot while he was sleeping. She remembered the last time she'd been curled up him bed with House: how she'd had to always sleep nude because he turned into a furnace as he slept. She smiled.

There was a TV as the end of the bed with a games console attached and a few games stored on top. Other than that, the room was pretty bare. There was a chair in the corner with a few clothes flung on it and a chest of drawers right next to it, with the drawers stuffed to the brim. His desk was on the other side of the room, and it was littered with papers and case files.

Cuddy found herself drawn to the desk. Sifting through the papers, she saw House's handwriting on a number of different files and case write ups. She felt incompetent; someone had got him to do what she couldn't.

Shaking her head she turned to the bathroom, but not without something in the trash catching her eye. _Cud _was written at the top of a piece of paper, and she couldn't see the rest. Sneaking a glance at the door to make sure she was alone, she pulled the paper out of trash can.

The first piece merely had _Cuddy _scrawled at the top, and nothing else. She threw it back in and kept looking, fully aware of how creepy it was she was searching through his trash. She pulled out another crumpled sheet of paper.

The writing was scribbled over a few times, but as Cuddy was peering closely at it she swore she could make out the words akin to _love, need, want. _But... She didn't know if it was her imagination. If she just wanted to hear him saying those things to her.

There was a floorboard creak outside and Cuddy moved like lightning, throwing the rejected letter back in and jumping into the bathroom.

She locked the door and undressed quickly, peeling her clothes off and dropping them on the floor. She undid House's shirt gently and placed in on the hook.

She _most certainly _did not want to give it back.

Stepping into the water she let out a content sigh. The warm water cascading down her back started lulling her back to sleep.

She finished up and dried herself off, wrapping the towel around her now clean body and going into House's room.

She almost fainted when she saw House reclining on his bed. He smirked. "Good morning sunshine," he said gleefully.

Cuddy was suddenly aware of how exposed she was. Folding her arms across her chest, she stated, "I need some clothes."

"Good God woman, you've already got one of my shirts, what more do you need?" He said sarcastically.

"Something clean?" She joked, rifling through his drawers unabashedly. She pulled out a grey shirt and popped back into the bathroom to do it up, rolling up the sleeves. She stepped out again and began looking for something to wear on her legs.

"Oh, don't do that," he groaned.

Even though she was turned around and he couldn't see her face, she still smiled. She pulled a pair of his shorts out of one of the drawers. He laughed fully as she put them on and they fell back down to the ground. "Classy," he quipped. "If only your pants had dropped that quickly back in New Jersey."

"You wish," she muttered, pulling up a pair of his boxers with an elasticated waist. She jiggled her hips side to side and nodded triumphantly as they stayed up. House watched her swaying hips and felt his mouth run dry.

The pair of them made their way downstairs quietly. Cuddy could practically _feel _House behind her, his heat engulfing her. It was literally making her woozy. Her burgeoning headache wasn't helped by the intense sunlight they walked into a moment later, where everyone else was eating breakfast outside.

Archer and Buck were arguing about something to do with the apple bud transplants that season, and Rachel was giggling like, well, a teenager as Patrick used his muscly arms to swing on a thick tree branch. Rachel turned around, double over with laughter, and caught sight of her mother. "Mom!" She shrieked, running over and flinging her arms round Cuddy's neck. "This place is... _amazing. _Patrick says that later they're all going to take us to town so you can buy clothes and I can buy more clothes and then we're going to go to the lake and we're going to take food and go swimming and oh my god you have to try the apricot jelly over there 'cause it's _so good _and - "

"And breathe," Cuddy placed her hands on Rachel's shoulder. "So you're having fun?"

"You can't even _understand - _" Rachel beamed, then kissed her mother's cheek. "Patrick's going to take me into the orchard. He says that the best apples are at the top, so we're going to climb for them."

"Don't break anything!" Cuddy called after her daughter, but she was long gone.

House was already sitting at the small outdoor table with two cups of coffee in front of him. "Black, two sugars," he said as sat down.

"You remember how I take my coffee?" She asked softly, touched.

"Do you remember how I take mine?" He returned,

"Of course. Milk, and one sugar. Two if you've been drinking."

"My point exactly. Not something you forget," he said quietly, awkwardly, as if he was suddenly embarrassed. "Here." He slid the coffee along the bench. "Rachel was right. The apricot jelly is _fan_tastic." He spread it over a piece of toast and wordlessly handed it to her.

Cuddy watched Buck and Archer smirking at the pair of them. "So," she took a bite, "what do you guys do here?"

Archer began regaling her with tales of the farm and Cuddy found herself completely enthralled. Buck jumped in with stories of House, and although House protested, managed to throughly embarrass him.

The Sun had dried her hair and it fell in thick, soft curls down her back. Her legs stretched out the side, both of the other men were silently bewildered as to why House had ever let her go... or rather, left her in New Jersey.

Archer snuck a look at House, and let the corner of his lip jerk up as he watched House watch Cuddy with pure adoration.

* * *

><p>Rachel sprinted ahead of Patrick, smiling wildly as she darted between the old trees. Their leaves were thick and full, which may running through them harder than it looked. She ducked skillfully, narrowly missing a thick branch.<p>

"Careful!" Patrick called. "Don't hurt yourself. Your mom'll kill me!"

Rachel flashed him a devious smile before running off again. She stole a look behind her, and furrowed her eyebrows when she noticed that Patrick was no longer watching her. She slowed, and looked around. She realised that she had no idea where she was. "Patrick!" She shouted.

There was silence. Then, a branch shook and two small apples fell. Rachel spun round. "This isn't funny," she hollered.

Suddenly... "BOO!" He jumped out from behind a tree. Rachel screamed.

"You dick!" She shouted, whacking him in the chest.

"Language," he false-admonished. "Hey, simmer down," he patted her head. "You'll scare like the best of us soon enough."

"That was terrifying," she pouted. "I'm a tiny little girl. You shouldn't scare me."

Patrick looked her up and down. "You're no little girl," he said incredulously.

Rachel felt a blush flood her cheeks and her body instantly become more responsive. Patrick was _gorgeous _- at least, she thought so. His thick dark hair and piercing green eyes made him so handsome Rachel just wanted to jump on him and kiss him. His lips were full and smooth and Rachel licked her own lips as she looked at them.

Who cared if he was twenty-five?

She knew that the age gap between her mother and House was eight years, this was only ten - why not go for it?

Rachel had never had a _serious _boyfriend. It just wasn't the way things were done at her high school. She'd had a few hand-holding, pecks on the lips boyfriends which graduated to proper make-outs as she got older. Her cute little middle school boyfriends at thirteen let her discover making out, and how to regulate the tongue in her mouth and stop the clashes of the teeth.

By last year, when she started giving elicit blow jobs to boys she kind of liked at parties, boyfriends weren't the "in" thing. Most kids trolled for random hook ups. And while that satisfied her generally, having a relationship with a boy when she hadn't and wasn't willing to give up her V card yet was difficult.

Maybe a break from those kind of boys was what she needed.

"Helloooo?" Patrick waved his hand in front of her face. "Anyone in there?"

Rachel smiled as she was jerked out of her reverie. "Try and catch me," she smiled.

She took off, and smiled as she felt him follow her.

* * *

><p>Archer and Buck took the plates back into the kitchen, leaving House and Cuddy outside. The Sun shone on the side of Cuddy's face, illuminating the not only the shine on her cheeks but the hollows under her eyes.<p>

"You look tired," House commented. "Guess you didn't sleep as well as you thought."

"One good night isn't going to make up for a decade of insomnia," she responded, yawning.

"We don't have to go out today," he offered. "You can stay and rest."

"No," she scoffed. "I'm fine. And I want you to show me around... and I _definitely _want to get some new clothes." She plucked at the fabric of the shirt she was wearing. "I can't borrow your clothes forever."

"Sure you can," he said lazily. "Of course, then the world can't enjoy your cleavage, so... I guess you're right. You can't. I bet there's some government legislation against it. We should make sure to get you some crop tops today," he pondered.

"I haven't got the body for crops tops anymore," she said, leaning back and smiling. "Probably best to keep these babies under wraps."

"Sure, you have," he countered. "Last time I saw you, your body would have rivalled a twenty year old's."

"Last time you saw me was a long time ago," she said quietly. "Things change."

House looked to the floor. "Yeah," he murmured.

There was moment of silence.

"We'll take you to the lake too," House said. "Rachel'll enjoy it."

Cuddy nodded. She got up and stood over House. Her hair swung in front of her face and the Sun made a halo behind her. "Thank you," she said slowly, as much meaning as possible infused into those words. She kissed him on the cheek, letting her lips remain there for a moment. "_Thank you,_" she repeated.

His hand ran up her arm. "Anytime," he said hoarsely.

They held each other's gazes. "I'll wait in the house," Cuddy muttered, and left.

House sighed. He ran his hand through his hair and blew out a breath. He wanted to touch every inch of her - he wanted to make her _feel _how much he loved her. After everything they'd been through, and everything they'd done for and to each other, he was still utterly captivated by her.

It made him crazy.

* * *

><p>All of them piled into the truck, with Archer driving into town. Rachel was squeezed up against Patrick, but Cuddy was too busy being pressed up to House to realise. As the car drove smoothly across the road, Cuddy felt House hand fall down next to hers and his index finger trace her thumb. She laid her head on his shoulder.<p>

Being close in this way was almost second nature. If they'd been in this situation without having dated, it would be different. Their one night in college would be long buried and the amazing intimacy that they could have and had shared would no longer be clearly remembered. Now, they both remembered with clarity being curled around each other, feeling their bodies fit together perfectly, the taste of the other on their lips. With each passing second, Cuddy felt more and more drawn to the man at her side and vice versa.

The truck parked outside a small clothing store. "There you go," Buck nodded.

Cuddy got out with Rachel following. "Are you guys coming?" She asked when none of the men made a move to exit the car.

"We're going to pick up some stuff for this afternoon," House explained. "You guys can do girly stuff, and we'll come and get you later."

Cuddy and Rachel entered the store, House's credit card clutched in Cuddy's hand. Unlike the last time they'd been shopping, where Cuddy had only bought for Rachel, she was quickly rifling through the racks and picking out pieces. There were no tight pencil skirts or floral blouses, and in a weird way, Cuddy found that freeing. If there had been clothes like that she knew she'd have been drawn to them.

Now, she picked out tanks and shorts and skirts. Rachel similarly was finding cute denim shorts, which caught Cuddy's eye. "Too short," she murmured, glancing to the hotpants.

"Come on, Mom," Rachel whined. "It's so hot here!"

"_No,_" she said firmly, taking the shorts out of Rachel's hand and dumping them on the table with a flourish. "Pick something else."

Rachel scowled. "That's not fair - "

"I know; that's the beauty of being a parent," Cuddy smiled.

"Ugh," Rachel moaned, then took on a melodramatic stance. "Fine. But, you'd think after I dropped my whole _life _to come here - "

"Save me the tears," Cuddy laughed.

Rachel picked up some slightly longer shorts. "Better?"

"Much," Cuddy nodded.

The pair continued shopping in silence. After a while, Cuddy spoke. "I haven't seen much of you since we got here," she noted. "Have they been taking care of you?"

"Yeah, they're all _so _great," Rachel smiled widely. "Patrick was showing me around the place, and the orchard, and everything. He's really sweet."

"_Sweet,_" Cuddy muttered, that niggling doubt appearing in her mind. "How old is he?"

"Twenty five," Rachel replied non-chalantly. "Wasn't that how old House was when you met him?"

_Smart girl, _Cuddy thought. "Yes, but I was eighteen," she reminded. "A little older than you are, my dear."

"I wasn't suggesting anything, Mom," Rachel swiftly changed the subject. "I was merely pointing out that they were similar ages when they met us for the first time."

"Oh, was that all you were pointing out?" Cuddy raised an eyebrow. Rachel blushed, and turned her attention back to the clothes rail.

Cuddy tried not to hide her smirk. Trust her teenage daughter to have already developed a crush, even after not having been there twenty four hours.

Cuddy took a large stacks of clothes up to the cash register and paid. Rachel waited gleefully, itching to pull out her new bikini and change into it before they got to the lake.

The truck pulled up roughly ten minutes later, with all three smirking at the three large shopping bags they were carrying. "Women," House sighed as they shoved the bags in the back.

"At least now I won't have to steal your shirts," Cuddy said, climbing and settling herself beside him.

"Oh I don't know about that," House replied. "They look good on you."

It was then that Rachel realised that her mother hadn't spent the trip so far in one of her bastard fiancé's shirts. No, Cuddy had been wearing _House's _shirt this whole time, in a desperate effort to be close to him. It was as if Rachel suddenly saw her mother and House's relationship on a whole new level.

The _only _thing her mother had made sure she'd had for this trip was House's shirt. The _only _thing. She'd left _everything _else behind - her partner, her job, her money, her home, her clothes... But she'd made sure to wear _his _shirt.

Rachel stopped. This trip was more important than she'd realised. She watched Cuddy slowly lean closer to House, and she watched him lift his arm to accommodate her. Their interaction was seamless - they knew each other's moves almost before they made them.

Rachel suddenly felt as if she were interrupting an intimate moment.

"Patrick," she whispered, "can you show me that waterfall you were telling me about when we get there?"

"Sure," he whispered back. "We're supposed to have lunch with everyone, but if you want, we can grab some stuff and go and eat when we get to the waterfall. Would you like that?"

"Yes please," she smiled.

* * *

><p>Rachel and Patrick grabbed some food as soon as the car stopped. "It's quite way to the waterfall," Patrick explained. "We should probably get going now if we want to get there before we die of hunger." He looked at the others. "You guys are welcome to come with us."<p>

"Sure," House said easily, "let me just go and get my mountain climbing cane." He patted himself down. "Damn. Left it in my other pants."

Patrick quirked his lip up. "See you later, old man," he joked. "Buck, Arch?"

Rachel pleaded silently that both men would decline. "Sorry," they both said. "Too much walking for something we've already seen a thousand times."

Patrick turned to Cuddy. "You're of course welcome," he said politely. "I just assumed you'd stay with House."

Cuddy felt like accepting purely to prove him wrong, but, he was right. She didn't want to leave House. "I'm pretty tired," she lied. "I'd probably get half way there and fall asleep. You don't want to have to carry me back." She turned to Rachel. "Honey, be careful. I don't want you, uh, _getting into trouble._"

"Yes Mom," Rachel muttered. "I'll watch out for rocks and stuff," she continued, deliberately misunderstanding.

Cuddy shot her look. _You know what I mean, _it said.

Rachel averted her gaze, looking sheepish. House watched the exchange, making a note of it. Something was going on.

With Patrick and Rachel leaving quickly, the four remaining adults made their way down to the edge of the lake. It was completely captivating, Cuddy had to admit. The Sun streaked across the clear, cool water which rippled gently. Trees lined the edge and grass was spread almost completely across the bank, aside from a few sandy spots. Dragonflies were darting over the water's surface and birds flew overhead, chirping quietly.

House heard Cuddy's sharp intake of breath. He leaned close to her ear. "Beautiful, hey?"

"Yes," she breathed, eyes locked onto the scenery. "Completely."

He moved back, pleased to see the pure wonder in her eyes. "Sit," he commanded, pulling her gently down onto the lush green grass. It was just the two of them now, with Archer and Buck off visiting some friends who had a house nearby, promising to be back later.

She ran her fingers across the grass absentmindedly. "You've changed," she said after a moment.

"What do you mean?" House murmured, his eyes shut as he reclined back down.

"This... You enjoying it," she elaborated. "Before, you'd never have been satisfied. You needed puzzles, challenges. You were never satisfied to just _be. _And now, you're perfectly content to just sit here with me and appreciate where we are."

"Ever think that it's the person not the place?" He said quietly.

Cuddy was silent. "No," she almost whispered. "I didn't think of that."

"Well then you're a moron," he continued easily. "You must _always _consider all the options."

"I'm not a moron," she protested.

"That fact you're saying you're not, makes me think that you are," he smirked, knowing it would drive her crazy.

"That fact that you're being an _ass, _makes me think that you haven't changed at all," she countered.

"You might be right about that one," he agreed. "So far, all I've done to make you think that I've become a fluffy, teddy-bear of a man is to lie down and _try _to have a nap next to a lake. That doesn't mean I'm necessarily appreciating the lake - I could just be tired."

"Or you could have become enlightened," she joked, laying down beside him. He shot her a look. "What? _You _said to make sure I considered all the options."

"Good point," he admitted. They lay together for a few minutes, enjoying each other's presence. Then House couldn't resist anymore, "so what's the deal with you and Lucas?"

Cuddy sighed. "I really don't want to talk about it."

"I know. And _you _know that saying that will only make me want to know more," he explained. "You do have to hold up your end of the bargain."

"I did. I told you why I came here - he hit me."

"But you didn't tell me _why,_" House stressed. "And you know that's the most important thing."

"I... don't even know," she admitted. "We were arguing - though that was normal - and I guess I said something, because the next thing I knew his fist was in my face. It was such a shock; of all the things I'd have thought he'd do, hitting me wasn't one of them.

"What did you say, just before?" He asked.

"He was complaining that I wasn't really in our relationship, so _I _said that he was one who kept sleeping on the couch and that... just made him mad, I guess," she shrugged. "I don't want to deal with him anymore."

"Good," House said softly.

"I want to deal with you though," she admitted quietly, stroking the side of his face. "I can't believe how much I missed you."

"Cuddy - " He said awkwardly. "Don't - don't do this. Both times you've come to me have been just after you've left Lucas. Look how well it worked out last time."

"This is different - "

"Why? Because there's been more time? Cuddy, after everything, don't you think we should stop history from repeating itself?"

She pulled her hand back from his face. "I don't understand."

"I... don't want to rush into something and ruin us all over again," he admitted. "We hurt each other before, and this is looking suspiciously like that. I'm your back-up; you run to me when things with _him _go south."

"That's not true _at all,_" she protested. "I came to you because you make me feel _safe. _I was bored and miserable at home - I knew I needed someone to wake me up again. _That's _why I came to you."

"So I'm just a cure for boredom?" He accused.

"No!" She said vehemently. "Why do you have to make things difficult?"

"Me?" He said incredulously. "_I _did as you asked. I left you alone. I got out of your life and I made a new life for myself."

"I _never _asked you to leave," she replied. "_You _chose to leave. You... You _convinced _yourself that everyone was against you and nobody loved you and that you'd be better off in a little place where you could start fresh."

"Do you think I'd have come to that conclusion with no evidence to back it up?"

They stared at each other, wondering how such an innocent and flirtatious conversation had gone so wrong.

Cuddy swallowed. "Are you mad at me for coming?" She asked hesitantly.

"Not at all," he replied instantaneously. She smiled and he took her hand. "I just don't want us to screw each other up again."

She nodded. "I just couldn't wait to see you," she admitted shyly. "I... assumed you'd be the same horny bastard you've always been."

He chuckled. "See? I have changed."

"I guess so," she nodded.

"Lie down," he suggested, patting the grass. She laid next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. "We'll get there," he promised, stroking her arm.

"Don't patronise me," she said, but laughing.

"We'll get there, _baby,_" he cooed.

"Good to know, _sweetie,_" she answered. "But you should ask yourself how long I'll be prepared to wait."

"You spent a week driving in the heat to see me and my manhood, trust me, you'll wait," he said confidently. He dipped his head down and kissed the top of her head. "Just so you know, I'd never hit you," he said, running his fingertips over her skin.

"I know," she nodded, and he felt her hair brush over his chin as she did so. "Thank you for letting me stay."

He paused. "Thank you for coming to find me."

* * *

><p>Rachel collapsed at the top of hill, wheezing. "Are you <em>kidding <em>me?" She wailed, as Patrick laughed. "You said it wasn't far!"

"It's _not _far," he said. "You just haven't done any serious walking, little girl."

"_Stop _calling me little girl," Rachel protested. "Are we almost there?"

"It's literally just over that hill," he pointed. "Two more minutes."

"You better not be lying," she threatened, pulling herself up.

Fortunately, he was telling the truth. Rachel beamed as she saw the water cascading down the rock face. "It's so pretty," she smiled at him. "I'm glad I walked a marathon for this."

Patrick chuckled. "You have _no _idea," he replied, but his words were lost as Rachel sprinted off to the water. She stood by the edge of the pool, peering in. "How deep is it?" She asked.

"Why don't you go and find out?" He asked, pushing her back gently with his toe.

Rachel screeched as she toppled into the water. Her head was submerged instantly, and as she bobbed up she splashed him as best she could. He was standing too far back for the water to get him though. "Oh my God!" She shouted.

Patrick was laughing like a toddler. "Help me," she asked.

He moved over to help her out, but she gripped his hand and pulled him into the water as hard as she could. "Shit," he shouted as he splashed in like a rock. The water from the fall pounded down, and the two of them laughed as the water swirled around their bodies.

The water trickled down her face, and she saw Patrick through the water. His smile was wide and white and the Sun was glinting behind his head. Rachel couldn't stop her heart from beating and stomach falling as he dove beneath the water and grabbed her legs. She pushed herself toward the side of the pool, and helped pull him out. They both lay their, breathing hard and laughing softly.

"I'm all wet," Rachel stated.

"Well done," Patrick replied.

She stood and flipped her hair over to shake the water out. As her head came back up, she looked over the ledge and saw her mother and House lying together on the side of the lake. Patrick noticed her staring and stood next to her.

"What's wrong?" He asked as he saw them too.

"She loves him," Rachel said softly. "She has done for years."

"So?" Patrick asked.

"I don't want to lose my Mom to him," she said quietly.

"You won't," Patrick said.

"I don't know that," Rachel murmured. "We've been here a day, and they've already glued themselves together."

* * *

><p>Lucas stopped at the diner in the early hours, collapsing into one of the booths. He ordered a coffee and plate of scrambled eggs. As the waitress brought them over, he pulled out his wallet. "Sorry to bother you," he said wearily. "But have you seen these girls?"<p>

The waitress gasped. "Joe! Come here!"

A large man ambled across the diner and glanced at the photo. "Well I'll be damned," he said gruffly. "Can't believe I'm looking at the guy who invented the toaster."

Lucas frowned. "What? Look, have you seen them? It's critically important."

"Sure, we saw them," Louise told them. "About a week ago."

Lucas looked up. "Where'd they go?"

Louise glanced out of the window. "That way. And if you see them, you tell them that they're welcome back any time."

"Thanks," Lucas said, rushing out.

"You forgot your breakfast!" Louise called, but Lucas didn't hear. He was back in the car and driving within a second, his eyes steely and determined.


	8. Chapter 8

Buck and Archer made their way back to the lakeside, smirking to themselves as they saw House and Cuddy lying together on the river bank, House pointing to something in the sky and Cuddy laughing softly.

As they got closer they heard House exclaiming, "you're a moron, Cuddles. That cloud definitely looks like a spleen."

"Look at you two, talking all medical," Archer joked, startling the pair of them. House pushed himself up quickly, cheeks reddening as he realised they'd been caught. Cuddy was far more relaxed, pushing herself up leisurely as a dreamy smile spread across her face.

"We should get back to the farm," Buck told them. "We'll gather up Patrick and Rachel and head back as quickly as we can. We've got to sort everything out before it gets dark." He held out a hand to House who took it gratefully, carefully avoiding eye contact.

As they made their way back to the truck, Rachel and Patrick trooped out from over the hill. "Perfect timing," Archer said, raising an eyebrow at the pair's sodden clothes. Rachel was smiling sneakily, damp hair flying in her face. As the boys loaded up the car, Cuddy sidled over to Rachel.

"You look like you have a secret," she whispered into her daughter's ear. She tried to keep her tone light and fun, but the mother in her already had a pounding heart. She didn't want to watch her daughter fall under this charming twenty five year old's spell. She'd seen it happen before, to her. And as much as she loved and clung to her relationship with House, she knew it had caused her far more sleepless nights and heartbreak than could possibly have been healthy for one person.

"You're imagining things, Mom," Rachel said, but she shot her mother a look that said otherwise.

* * *

><p>A week had passed since that day at the lake, and Cuddy was surprised at how settled she felt on the farm. She was beginning to see how House had fallen in love with this place. There was something undeniably soothing about staying - or in House's case, living - in a place where the pressures and worries of the outside world fell away.<p>

She knew that sounded dramatic. It wasn't as if she had entered into a time bubble back in a century where there were no phones, email or TV and only hard labour. Cuddy hadn't exactly been lugging bags of grain or helping clean the horse's hooves, and PPTH and Wilson and everything she'd run from was only a phone call away. But, despite all that, the farm felt like a place where no one would find you, unless you led them to you.

She entered into the kitchen as House was making an omelette. "Good morning," she said happily, stretching to the ceiling and going up on her tiptoes. House's eyes immediately trained on her briefly exposed midriff, his breath hitching as the smooth, creamy skin came into view.

"The way your voice sounds, I'm starting to think you'll become a permanent fixture in this place," House joked, but with an undertone of sincerity.

"Would that be... so terrible?" She asked coyly, twirling a strand of hair around her index finger.

He considered this. "I guess not," he murmured, to her great delight. "You're not that bad."

"Oh well thanks," she replied, false affronted. "You're not so bad yourself." She moved toward him and reached up to kiss his cheek.

Although he squirmed away from her, it was all pretend. If he hadn't been emotionally crippled, he'd have admitted to her how much he wanted to have her lips all over his body. It was obvious from her body language that she was angling to be near him, to touch him. And if his bruised ego wasn't so prominent in his stupid pride-oriented brain he'd have let her and reciprocated just as intensely.

"Here," he said, handing her a plate. "It's not much, but it's something. I have to go to work."

She watched him out of the corner of her eye. "You know, at some point, you're going to have to - "

She was cut off by the door slam. Shaking her head, she bit into the omelette. She was just thinking about how difficult even the simplest things in her life had become. For the first time since she'd arrived, she began to question whether following him was a good idea. It was like short-term amnesia after a trauma. Her mind had forgotten what a disaster their relationship had turned into. She recognised the signs even now - he was nervous and pulling away from any serious commitment, serious _affection. _

After everything he'd said to her in his letters, she couldn't believe how _resistant _he was being. He'd said _Let's not screw this up again. _That implied that there was a _this _to screw up and that it had already been screw up once. As of that trip, he'd wanted them to have a second chance. That was a _week _ago. _One week. _She couldn't believe that his mind had gone from almost admitting he loved her to resenting the sight of her in such a short period of time, but, then again, this _was _House. If anyone could convince himself that his feelings had changed so drastically, it was him.

She sighed and massaged her temples. This was the problem with House - he gave her too many headaches.

* * *

><p>The six of them were gathered around the table eating when Cuddy began to speak. "I was wondering if you guys knew what House was like at work," she asked. "As his ex-boss, I'd really like to know." She smiled devilishly at him.<p>

He didn't return the smile this time. The absolute _last thing _he wanted was for the two parts of his life - before and after - to mix anymore than they had.

"Well, we don't know," Patrick said. "We've never been allowed to enter the sacred realm that is Apple Valley Medical Centre." At her disheartened look, he suggested, "why don't you tell us something about him in New Jersey?"

She smiled. "Well - "

"We don't need to go into that," House cut in smoothly, voice too cold to be overlooked.

Cuddy bristled. "House - "

"It's my life - it _was _my life. And I get to decide if people know about the horror stories of PPTH."

"They weren't _horror stories._" Cuddy laughed lightly. "They were things that happened while you worked there. Since you were the one who orchestrated the _many _situations that made _many _of my days a living hell, surely you can appreciate the humour in them."

"You don't know me," he said, too seriously for the air around the table not to go flat and awkward.

Rachel looked at her mother with an air of confusion and terror in her eyes, but Cuddy was looking straight at House. "Actually," she replied, "I do. You can pretend all you want. But we both know it's true."

House looked at his plate. "You think you know me. You think I act too complex to actually _be _complex. But, in truth, you're just too self righteous - "

"_House._" Archer jumped in. "Stop."

"I'm not hungry," he muttered, throwing his knife and fork on the plate and storming out of the room.

The whole table trained their eyes on Cuddy, who was watching the door. "Excuse me," she said quietly, wiping her mouth and following him out.

"Mom - " Rachel tried, but Patrick placed his hand on hers and shook his head, silencing her.

* * *

><p>"What the hell was that?" She accused as soon as she entered the barn, where he was staring despondently out in the night.<p>

He sighed, as if she was a bother. "What was what?"

"_That. _You attacking me for an innocuous question!" She stood in front of him, her hands on her hips.

"I didn't want you telling them about me in Princeton," he said calmly. "What's wrong with that? As I've already said, it's my life and it's my choice who knows about it."

"But..." She shook her head in exasperation. "It's not _bad. _It's you."

"No," he said with more force, facing her for the first time. "It _was _me. Not anymore. I've changed."

Cuddy stood for a second. "Is... is that why you've been so... cold toward me?"

"I have been _anything _but cold," he countered, looking affronted for the first time. "I've let you stay with me for as long as you wanted. I've let you turn up, with barely any explanation, and - "

"Barely any explanation?" She said, eyes widening. "I _told _you what happened between me and Lucas. I don't see what further explain you need other than he hit me. He _hit _me, House." She felt her eyes begin to well up - in all this time, she hadn't shed a tear over the break up between her and Lucas. It didn't matter that she'd never really been in love with him; he'd loved _her, _of that she was sure. And the fact that someone who was supposed to love and cherish you went from caring to violent in a second was enough to make anyone cry a little. Taking a deep breath, she wiped her eyes.

"I know," House said quietly. She could tell that the thought of that really did pain him. "But... you ran. You ran as fast as you could. And while I'm not _in any way _blaming you for that, you never told me_ why? _Why you were looking for an excuse to leave Lucas. Why you got back together in the first place. Why your daughter has no idea who I am. Why, of all people, you came to _me. _Why I, apparently, make you feel safe." He moved to take her shoulders in his strong hands. "_Why?_" He almost pleaded.

She looked at him with wide, unblinking eyes. "I... don't know," she forced out. "I just... don't."

House's face fell and he dropped her shoulders. "That's not good enough!" He ran his hand through his hair. "You..."

"But," she interrupted, "why does it matter? Why do I have to have all the answers? Isn't it enough that we're together again - I'll find out, I will, but... for now. I like being with you. And yes, you do make me feel safe." She bit her lip. "We love each other, and - "

"I never said that," he stopped her. "At least, not for a _very _long time."

Cuddy sighed. "Fine, you didn't say those exact words, but it was obvious in your letters - "

"What letters?" House asked, eyes on the night sky.

The room was silent.

"Wha-what? The letters you wrote to me, that helped me get here?" She searched his face for recognition. "House..."

"I said those letters didn't exist," he replied coldly.

She pressed her palms into her face. "Why can't you just admit it?" She exploded. "You know what you wrote. You know what that meant for you, and me, and _us. _Don't pretend. You're not a child - and I'm not going to play mommy and shield you from what you did. You _told _me all those things, things I didn't know or remember. And they made me realise that I don't just have strong feelings for you, but that I still, after all this time, after everything we've been through, am completely, deeply and unforgivingly in love with you."

House turned to face her. He opened his mouth, but she beat him to it. "And I don't need a fucking letter to say it!" She shouted, and stormed out of the barn.

* * *

><p>The house was dark when House reentered, some time later. He'd wanted to run after her immediately - but, naturally, he'd done the opposite and stayed right where he was. He'd been thinking - and that wasn't usually a good sign.<p>

Clutching his thigh, he made his way up to his room. He raced to his desk and scrawled something on a blank piece of paper. Then, he marched down the hall - careful not to wake the other members of the household - and slipped it under Cuddy's door.

After staring at the door for a moment, he retreated back to his bedroom.

* * *

><p>Cuddy jerked out of her train of thought as something slid along the floor. Her fingers itched to reach down and pick it up, but she could hear someone shifting just outside and didn't want anyone to know that she was still awake.<p>

As soon as she heard the footsteps move back down the hall, she leapt out of her bed and picked up the folded sheet of paper. The room was almost pitch black so she couldn't read it, and she couldn't turn the light on because Rachel would wake up. "Dammit," she hissed, tiptoeing out of the room and standing in the little corridor.

_Cuddy,_

_I'm sorry. _

_House_

Cuddy rolled her eyes. Just like him, she thought, scanning the sparse page. She held her arms up in the air, as if to say "why bother?" As she did that, the light from the lightbulb shone through the thin paper, revealing more words on the other side of the page.

They were small, and messy, and hidden in the top left corner.

_I do love you, you know. _

Cuddy read the words over and over. Her eyes blurred as she focused on what had to be the most stressful and yet most wonderful and life affirming three words you could ever read or hear or say. Smiling a little to herself, she moved swiftly down the hall. She knocked once, gently, on House's door.

It only took a second for him to appear. "Yes?" He asked hesitantly.

She paused. "I need to hear you say it."

He stood for a moment. Then, he took her hand in his. He leant very close to her and put his lips to the shell of her ear. "I love you," he whispered. A small "oh" escaped her lips as he kissed behind her ear while anchoring himself on her hips. "I love you," he repeated, as he made his way down her jawline.

He stamped one more soft, tender kiss on her lips. "I love you - completely, deeply and unforgivingly." He smiled against her slightly parted mouth. "Is that what you needed to hear me say?"

She nodded infinitesimally. "Yes," she breathed.

"Good," he whispered. "Do you... want to come in?"

The way she locked her lips to his was a definite _yes. _

She pushed him back into the room. The pair stumbled to the bed together, kissing and touching and _feeling. _They fell down onto the mattress together, removing clothes hurriedly.

They'd both waited too long for this.

Although it began quickly, it soon slowed. Deep, strong thrusts made Cuddy and House moan together, swallowing each other's noises within their kiss. Being together again was like remembering how to _breathe _again.

As House's hands lit a trail of heat across her skin, she whispered in his ear, "I love you."

And as they finally came together, Cuddy could feel his reply emanating out of him into her.

_I love you, too. _


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Oops, it's been a long time. Sorry guys - life's busy. This chapter going up now is thanks to a lovely reader who asked me an anonymous question on my formspring (www(dot)formspring(dot)me/EllieShelly) about when I was going to update and sparked my enthusiasm. Enjoy! :)

* * *

><p><em>His lips met hers as they stumbled onto the bed. She was pinned beneath him, feeling his lips makes an assault on her smooth neck, biting and suckling on the pulse point. "Oh," she breathed, letting him slide her shirt off.<em>

_"Mmhm," House murmured, cupping the swell of her breasts into his warm palms, then bending down to lave against her nipple. "I know," he whispered against her skin._

_She drew him back up to her. She ripped the buttons on his shirts and pushed it roughly down his shoulders. "Now," she said hurriedly, as they shed the rest of their clothes. "House, I need you."_

_He paused for one second. He looked deep into her eyes. Time froze; at least, for him it did. "You..." He started, but the words caught in his throat. She ran a hand over his stubble and flashed him a look that said, I understand._

_As quick as she'd originally wanted him to make it, she was glad when he inched himself slowly into her. She arched her back, moaning. "House -" She breathed, grasping his hair in her fingers. He'd forgotten how vocal she tended to be. Smiling to himself, he reached between them and began stroking her straining clit. His erection hardened as she moaned again, latching her lips onto his shoulder to avoid waking the household._

_He continued thrusting, harder and harder. Her arms were wrapped around his broad shoulders, her legs entwined with his on the sheets. She opened her mouth and began to say something, but House stopped her with a well-timed thrust. "I - Oh," she breathed. "T-there," she stammered, her vision clouding._

_House stilled for a moment. He pulled out and pushed back in, hard. "There?" He asked, smirking to himself._

_"Uh, uh huh," she nodded, not catching the mocking. She looked up to his blazing eyes. She wiggled her hips beneath him, causing him to release a carnal groan._

_"Woman," he whispered into the shell of her ear. "You know what you do to me?"_

_She nodded. "I'm glad I still can," she replied breathily. He sped up, sensing how close they both were. His thrusts became erratic, but Cuddy didn't notice. Her hands fisted the sheets helplessly. Beneath him, with him currently holding her emotions in the palm of his hand, she was completely at his mercy. "I love you," she said to him, with as much meaning as she could infuse into those three words._

_Never one for sentiment, House was surprised when that admission pushed him over the edge. No time to reply, he felt himself come inside her. He growled, holding her as she was pulled over the edge with him. Her heard swelled; she felt like she would explode. After so many years of being unsatisfied - in more ways that one - she finally remembered what it was like to feel full._

Cuddy's eyes snapped open. The birds were chirping softly outside the window and House was snoring gently, his arm holding her to his body. She remembered how she'd felt last night - full, satiated, loved. But now, she could only panic. Her heart began to beat faster, her eyes darting about the room.

She tried to slip out of his hold without waking him, but House's eyes blurred open as she shifted the blankets. "Hey," he croaked, blinking. She could see the way he was looking at her; his smile only widened as his drew a pattern on her forearm. He glanced to the clock. "It's six," he told her. "Come back to bed."

Her expression revealed more than she intended. Immediately, he let go of her. "What's wrong?"

She paused. "Nothing," she told him unconvincingly, sinking back down onto the mattress. He gave her a pointed look. She sighed. "It's just... after all that... we couldn't even wait long enough to have a proper conversation."

"Cuddy, it was right. We both know it."

"Yes - but our last relationship was a train wreck. We both know that, too. And yet, we've managed to make the exactly the same mistakes we made before. Jumping into things too quickly, after an impulsive decision." She shook her head. "I don't want to ruin us... But sometimes I think we don't know how not to."

House blew out a long breath and flopped back into the bed. "Don't over think," he groaned. "Why can't we just _be?_"

"You and I are both rational and analytical by nature. We aren't the kind of people who can be mindlessly happy together. We'll always think, and evaluate. We can't stop who we are just because it would be more convenient for our, I can't help but think, doomed relationship," she explained. House couldn't help but agree for the most part.

"Cuddy, what's the big deal? We fought, we had sex. We've always been that way. We've never been good at boundaries or controlling ourselves," he said. He could see the unhappiness in her eyes. "Why is this upsetting you?"

"I don't want us to be the same as were back then," she whispered, as if she didn't want to admit it. "I want us to be different - and here we are, just like we were." She felt her eyes begin to sting. "I wanted to wait. I wanted us to spend actual, proper time discussing _us. _I wanted to know what I did wrong, and I wanted the opportunity to tell you how you could have done better. I wanted it to be... special. Like we earned it. I wanted to feel ready to give us another, real shot. I wanted to wake up the morning after and look at you, and know that we would spend the rest of our lives together," she broke off, her expression almost begging him to reply.

"You... don't know that?" He asked after a moment.

She was shocked. "You do?"

"If there is _anyone _I could and would want to spend my life with - it's you," he admitted. "Cuddy, I love you. I told you that."

"It's not enough," she replied. "If love was enough we'd have stayed together before. There are a whole host of things we need to work long term - and not rushing into sex would have helped that. After this time... I'm not going to wait another ten years to find you. I'm not going to ask if you've magically turned into everything you weren't when I broke up with you. I want to be with you and find out for myself."

"We can still do that," he said lazily, trying to guide her back into his arms. He'd tasted her again last night, and he wasn't going to give up without a fight. "You're still staying here. We'll still be together, every day."

"You're not taking this seriously," she muttered, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and trying to leave. He reached out after her, running his hands over the small of her back.

"I'm trying," he said. "I just don't see what the problem is. Can't we 're-find' ourselves _and _have great sex?"

"No," she replied instantaneously. "We should have waited - "

"We're not sixteen and virgins," House interjected.

" - until we were _ready. _We certainly weren't at _that place. _We've just never been able to control ourselves. We had a fight, no surprise there, and then you told me you loved me. You were open and honest, and I let myself forget that I'm not here to screw you and leave you. Our relationship can't survive on sex, House."

House smirked. "After last night, _I _can't survive without that kind of sex."

She sighed. "Please, I'm asking you to think of what we have to lose."

He sat up, rubbing his thigh absentmindedly. "I would lose your body. I would lose your mind. I would lose you making fun of you for not being a real doctor. I would lose the only person who can put up with me - even if she needed a decade long break." He reached up and ran his hands up her thighs, and then continued up her body. "I would lose these thighs. I would lose your skin, your arms." He buried his face in her cleavage. "I would lose the twins," he murmured. She giggled. "I would lose your neck," he said, as he kissed it. "Your lips. Your eyes." He was standing across from her now. "I would lose the one woman, the one _person, _that I've never been able to forget." He kissed her lips. "I can't _stop _thinking about _everything _I would lose."

"Mmm, you've turned into such a romantic," she moaned, losing herself into his words. Just as she felt herself melting back into his body, she stopped. "No, no!" She pulled away. "I'm not letting you distract me."

He smiled. "Yes, you are."

"Not."

"_Yes._"

"_No._"

They were standing at this point, House's arms wrapped around her tiny frame. "One more time, House," she whispered. "We do this right, or we don't do it at all."

He nodded. "Okay."

"No more sex."

"No more sex," he repeated after her.

She smiled peacefully. She rested her head onto his bare chest. "I should probably put some clothes on," she started, but he pressed a finger to her lips.

"Don't ruin the moment yet," he muttered. "Let me get a good look at you before you remove my all access pass to your lady parts." He sat on the bed and kept her standing by holding her hips. "Don't move," he ordered. She stood completely still as his eyes roamed her body up and down. His lips reached forward, as he pressed a kiss to her hip. "Goodbye," he said melodramatically, staring between her legs.

She gave him a soft smile. "Thank you," she replied, grabbing a shirt of House's off of the floor.

She dressed hurriedly, buttoning the shirt and smoothing her hair in his mirror, trying to make it look like she hadn't spent the night touching tummies with House. Once satisfied, she prepared to leave. She thought the conversation was over - when House started speaking from the bed in a lazy drawl. "If you want me to agree to no sex yet," he began, "you'll have to promise me that you'll answer all my questions."

She swallowed. "Of course. I never said I wouldn't."

"But even last night, you told me that you didn't know that answer to my questions. I think you were lying," he said smugly. "You know exactly why you never told Rachel about me."

"I don't. I really don't, House," she said immediately, feeling her pulse quicken a little. "You weren't a part of my life after you left. When Rachel got old enough to actually remember things... You were no longer someone she _had _to know about. You were my past."

"Liar, liar, pants on fire," he trilled.

"I'm _not _lying," she said adamantly, turning round and placing her hands on her hips.

"Okay, fine, I'll give you omitting the whole truth," he conceded. "But you've got to give me the whole story - otherwise you've broken the deal, and then we can have sex again."

"House -"

"All I know is that I'd never said a word about you to any of guys before you called me and told me you were coming, and I the reason I did that was because... I didn't want to remember. I didn't want to think about what I'd lost from my life." He looked at his interlocked hands. "I know that's why you didn't tell Rachel - all I'm asking is that you tell me that."

She paused. "Fine. No more secrets, no more omissions. Anything and everything - I'm yours."

"Excellent," he smiled gleefully, rubbing his hands together.

"You're making me nervous," she said after a moment, sitting on the bed.

"Are you really done with Lucas?" He asked quickly, catching her off guard. She stared at him for a second, then practically stammered her response.

"Y-Yes," she nodded vigorously. "It's done. Over. Finished for good."

"Did you really love him?" House shot at her.

"I... No. Not really," she admitted, and it felt so good to get the weight of her chest. After so many years of constantly pretending that he was what she wanted, pretending to love him... finally just saying the truth that he'd never been a love for her was such a relief.

"Why were you with him, _again_?" House continued.

"He was... convenient," she said delicately. "He was stable, supportive. I needed that."

"You said the exact same thing the first time." House muttered.

"This is different. I'm not under any false pretences anymore. I made the mistakes - I won't make them again," she promised. "Before, I was thinking about the kind of family I needed for Rachel. House, she was a toddler. Now she's fifteen, in three years she'll be off to college. I can think a little more about _me. _And I want to be with _you._" She squeezed his hand. "Does that answer your question?"

He nodded. "For now," he replied cryptically.

"I'm going to get some breakfast," she called behind her as she left. "Feel free to join me."

* * *

><p>Rachel left the house and found Patrick picking apples in the orchard. She sat beneath the adjacent tree and watched him. He caught her eye and smiled. "Mom didn't come to bed last night," she blurted out. "Or at least, she left during the night."<p>

Patrick shrugged, finding a juicy red apple and throwing it to her. "So?"

"So... Neither her or House are awake yet," Rachel continued. "I checked all the rooms except for his. She's in there."

Patrick sighed. "Rach, you've seen them together. Surely you know why your mom came out here."

"Right. She came out here to jump him," Rachel murmured. "She made him sound so important to her. She was so excited to be here, to see him again. But I... didn't think they'd be so close so soon."

"Just remember that your mother has a whole life you don't know about," Patrick answered, sitting beside her. "I think we can assume that they've been 'so close' for a very long time. You've just met him - she _knows _him."

Rachel thought for a moment. "I wish I could have a life my mom didn't know about," she said quietly, smiling dreamily.

Patrick shifted infinitesimally closer. "Maybe you can," he whispered, lips by her ear.

Rachel spine tingled. "What do you mean?" She asked, turning to face him. He looked into her eyes and then placed his worn palms on her cheeks. Rachel's eyes drifted shut.

Their kiss was soft, tentative. His lips were like pillows and she fell into them, losing herself for a moment. She'd been kissed before, but never by a _man. _The boys she'd been with before were young and juvenile - Patrick was different.

She pulled away after a moment. "My mom won't find out about this," she said with certainty. "She can't."

Patrick stroked her cheek. "She's too wrapped up in her own little world to notice what you're doing." He smiled. "Rach... There's something different about you. You're not... just a kid."

She nodded and smiled shyly. "I've never been with a guy who really knows what he's doing," she admitted.

"I guess I'll have to change that," he whispered.

"I hope so."

* * *

><p>"Good morning," Archer smirked as Cuddy came outside and sat down at the table. Buck and Arch exchanged a look, noting her mussed hair and glazed eyes. "Long night?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.<p>

She smiled serenely. "Something like that."

"House up?" Arch continued.

"I wouldn't know," she answered, spreading jam on a piece of bread.

"Did you two... kiss and make up after last night?" Buck said slowly. Cuddy shot them both a look, but smiled.

"We made up," she told them. "We usually do."

"Yes, the two of you seem to have a complicated, uh, friendship," Archer kept on, sipping his coffee whilst pouring her a cup. She took it gratefully.

"We've known each other a long time," she agreed. She was being too coy for their liking and they sidled round to sit beside her.

"Lisa," Buck said, taking her hand in his. "These walls aren't that thin. So unless he was doing on-bed aerobics..."

"He's always been eccentric," she chuckled, as the two men leant against her shoulders. "Look - "

"Are they harassing you?" House said gravelly, startling them all.

"No, not at all," she smiled. "We've just been talking about aerobics."

House frowned, using his sparkling teeth to gnaw at a piece of toast. He looked between the other table members and then hummed loudly, as if pondering the group dynamic. The others held their breath, trying not to laugh. Then, House leaned back, appearing to be satisfied with his "findings."

Cuddy exhaled and then took a sip of her tea, letting the morning sun bathe her face. The trees glistened in the golden aura and the mountains in the distance were majestic, rising above like giants. Apple Valley was a different world to PPTH - no doubt about it.

The calm was broken by Rachel and Patrick coming back to the table, flushed and laughing. Rachel grabbed a glass and poured herself some juice, blushing furiously as her hand bumped into Patrick's. House raised his eyebrows, but Cuddy was clearing ignoring his gaze.

She noticed the exchange, but didn't see the significance. Her daughter was smitten, obviously. That was fine. A simple crush was _sweet. _Smitten herself, she didn't pick up on Patrick's mesmerised expression and smooth smile. Her mind was focused on her own turbulent love life and barely registered her daughter's.

"I'll take you for a hike today," Patrick was telling Rachel. "Should be a good full day. Three hours walking, lunch, and back. Hopefully your little legs can handle it," he teased.

"My legs maybe be small, but they're strong," she retorted, poking her tongue out. "I can take anything you throw at me."

He picked up a grape and threw it at her head. "Really?" He said sarcastically, laughing at her bemused expression. "Just like you caught the poor, defenceless grape?"

She flipped him off, smirking.

"Rach," Cuddy warned.

"Nice," House murmured smugly, earning a gentle swat from Cuddy and a surprised smile from Rachel.

* * *

><p>The day passed smoothly and lazily, the warm breeze meandering through the farm, subduing the animals and the people alike. Patrick and Rachel had set off after breakfast, Rachel slathered in sunblock to protect her from the powerful rays.<p>

Cuddy was sitting her room at the desk, staring at a piece of paper absentmindedly. There was a phone downstairs, but she didn't feel like phoning. She'd write a letter and let it meander through the postal system. The hospital didn't need her - and if they did, she couldn't care less. Being here with the man she loved... That's what she wanted. She didn't want to look back on her life and see hours and hours of work but, ultimately, loneliness. If she lost her job; so what? She'd get another. She certainly had enough saved to take care of Rachel.

The pen was still capped and she realised she had no desire to contact anyone from New Jersey. But she should. She shook her head, undecided.

"Don't do it."

She whipped round. "You can't possibly know what I'm considering doing."

"You're thinking of writing to Wilson," he answered knowingly, dropping down onto her bed and twirling his cane in the air. "Don't."

"Why not?"

"You'll burst the bubble," he muttered. "Not yet."

She abandoned the desk and then sat beside him on the bed. She was exhausted; they both knew she wanted to lie down with him.

They may have made a no-sex pact (which Cuddy was determined to stick to) but that didn't change the fact that, last night, they'd reconnected. She'd felt him, his body, again and realised that he soothed her like no one else could. He was strong, built. His muscles were taught and tanned. His smell was heady - gone were the faint scent of the hospital, the ORs, the clinical air. Now he smelt of _fresh air - _outside and hay and grass. She had to admit it was _comforting. _He was warm. He felt like coming home, and wrapped up in his arms she felt right where she wanted to be.

She put her head slowly on his chest, relishing the moment. "I missed you," she said quietly. "Did you miss me?"

"Of course," he answered, as if it was obvious.

The air prickled. "Why did you leave?"

He sighed. "We broke up. I was miserable. I was fifty. Sticking around and hoping that something would change wasn't working." He shifted a little, making it more comfortable for his leg. "I've always believed that you can't create happiness - that searching for it was useless. After... I didn't think that anymore. I wanted to find... I don't know, change, happiness, _something. _I found here."

She looked at him, a shiver going down her spine as his hands began carding through her curls. "What do you mean, _after. _After what?"

"After us."

"Why did we change anything?" She asked softly. "Why did you abandon your life's beliefs after ten months together?"

He chuckled gently. "Because, Cuddy," he told her, as if it was the simplest thing in the world, "I was happy with you."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: For those of you who you who read the original posting of this chapter, the part that caused all the fuss has now been edited out. Just to be safe. **

* * *

><p>The sun had risen a few hours previously and Cuddy was curled up under a tree with a book, cushion and glass of elderflower cordial. As the heat engulfed her, she put down her book and just let the rays wash over her. She sighed with utter content. She was so happy in that moment that she wanted to cry tears of joy. The leaves swayed gently overhead and a breeze flew past her. It was idyllic.<p>

At least, it was until her sunshine was blocked by a large, House-shaped shadow. She groaned. "You're in my sun," she whined, glancing up at the figure above her.

"You're under my tree," he alternated, dropping down beside her and passing her an apple as a peace offering. "Eye for an eye."

"It's not your tree," she returned, but took a bite from the crisp apple all the same. "You can't own a _tree._"

"Au contraire, ma cherie," he replied. "Of course you can own a tree. There are very few things in this day and age that you can't own." He thought for a moment. "In more ways than one, of course."

She shot him a sideways look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you know," he drawled. "There's owning things financially, physically, emotionally - like I said, there are few things at this point that aren't owned by someone." He picked the apple out of her hand. "Like this. Even though I gave it to you, I have an _emotional bond _with it. So, it's mine."

"Ah, I've missed your convoluted logic," she smirked. "Almost as much as your blatant disregard for authority and rules."

"What makes think I haven't kicked those habits?" He asked, false-affronted.

"Did you steal this apple from Buck's orchard?" She questioned him, one eyebrow raised.

"Yes."

"I rest my case," she answered. "But, I wouldn't worry. Now that I'm not your boss, I rather like those traits in you."

"I'm dangerous and unpredictable," he supplied. "A _bad-boy._"

"I prefer to think of it as exciting," she offered.

"On that note, would you like a drink?" He pulled out a bottle of Bordeaux from behind him. "Compliments of Archer's wine cellar. A beautiful day like this isn't complete without a finishing a bottle of red between old friends."

She smiled and popped the cork, taking a long swig. "That's good," she murmured. "Archer won't be happy you took it."

"What Archer doesn't know - yet - won't hurt him. You should see how many bottles down there are filled with water." He took the bottle back a gulped it down. "Sure, he'll be mad when he finds it. But why think about then as opposed to now?"

"Good point," she agreed. "I just want to think about now." She rested her head against his shoulder. "Is it always this peaceful here?"

"Pretty much," he replied. "Well, apart from in mating season."

She chuckled lightly imagining it. "I assume that you're quite the bovine OB/GYN?"

"Naturally," he played along. "I've delivered every calf in this place."

She shifted down so she was lying on the soft grass. "I swear everything's brighter here. The grass, the sky. It's like the contrast has been turned up in my brain. Everything's so... dull in Princeton. Grey."

He didn't speak for a second. "I had no idea that you wereso unhappy there."

She shrugged as he slid down to lie next to her. "Neither did I. Until I came here." She leaned over and, in the spur of the moment, kissed him. It was long and tender, her soft lips fusing with his. Neither was keen to move past a simple touch of the lips. It was only after a breeze disturbed the peace that House slid a hand into her hair and deepened the kissing, his tongue sweeping into her mouth.

Her body _burned _with desire. Damn her no-sex rule. However, she couldn't deny that she was the one who'd made the move into kissing. As if they were on the same wavelength, House broke the moment. "Weren't we not supposed to be doing this?" He asked her, voice higher than usual.

"Unless you've suddenly become one-dimensional, I'd say this doesn't count as 'sex.' Of course, if you think differently, we can stop..."

"No no," House jumped in. "Just checking. To be sure."

She smiled and moved above him, lowering her lips so they were just above his. "The only thing I'm sure about is that there nowhere else in the _world _that I would rather be than right here, with you."

* * *

><p>Lucas pulled up into a motel and opened his shoddy little room. He collapsed on the bed, eyes weary. He'd been driving now for almost three weeks... And he couldn't help but feel like it was time to go home. As much as it pained him to admit it, he wasn't going to find them. Lisa had walked out of his life - and he couldn't bring her back.<p>

He had thought of everything. But to no avail, all his leads had ended up as dead ends. So she would stay with House and live happily ever after and he would return home and try and move on.

But... how? They _lived _together. She'd taken nothing with her. All of hers and Rachel's things were still in the house - he couldn't get rid of them. Could he? She'd kill him. But she was the one who left? He shook his head. At this point, he just wanted to have a conversation with her. But she hadn't taken her phone and he couldn't find the landline number for House's new place.

He thought again about how he could locate the man. He'd done his best but had been so far unsuccessful. Dr Gregory House... He left no trace, apparently. The two people who had definitely known where he was were Cuddy and Wilson - neither were going to be forthcoming with that information, for obvious reasons.

Dr Gregory House...

Then, Lucas sat up. It was so simple. _Dr. _He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and searched the American Medical Association's contact details. As he made plans to place a call in the morning, he thought about how his search wasn't dead yet. He couldn't give up on her. She was worth more than that.

* * *

><p>As the bottle of wine drew to a close Cuddy leant closer to House. She wasn't drunk, but a little looser than usual. He smirked as she nuzzled her nose into the warm skin of his neck. After all, she had been the one who'd enforced a no-sex ban, and here she was pawing at him like there was no tomorrow.<p>

"Cuddy," he warned. "Just so you're aware, if you keep doing that..."

"What?"

"There are certain bodily reactions that I can't control," he explained delicately, glancing down to his crotch. "And as I recall, you were the one who was against touching of _that _kind."

"Sorry, sorry," she apologised, sitting back up against the tree and fiddling with her fingers. She let the moment settle before turning to House. "What was the bitchiest thing I did in our relationship?"

"Oh, are we having _this _talk?"

"House, we've been here for a month," she told him. "I think it's time. I know we've both been avoiding it like the plague but we need to just suck it up. House, we can make us work. I know it. Before, we were so caught up in the fact that we were actually in relationship that we forgot to just _be _in that relationship. I think, if we try again, we can do it."

He sighed. "I'll be honest with you. I put everything into our relationship. I tried my hardest to make us work. _You _were the one who ran away - and you were the one who didn't do a damn thing to make it work."

She looked momentarily hurt. "What do you mean?"

"Cuddy, there were so many things that I did for you. I babysat your kid, I dealt with your mother, I gave up my masseuse, I supported you and Rachel getting into that preschool, I offered to take you to France and for once, I _actually _took your commands within the hospital and did my clinic duty. I made an effort. You didn't," he accused.

"That's not fair," she shook her head. "House, the thing is, when you're convinced you're right, that's it. There can be no inbetween. So you think that you made all the changes and I sat back and did nothing. But, I don't _parade _the things I did in front of you. Because I don't think they were a big deal. I don't feel like I should bring them up in conversation like this because they were nothing special - House, they were just what you _do _in a relationship. Same with yours. You deal with snarky in-laws. You help babysit the kids. You stop getting massaged by a hooker you would once have sex with. And, for God's sake, you _do your clinic duty because it's your job._" She started pulling grass out of the ground. "The most important - and, I know, most difficult - thing for you was going to be opening up to me. Actually _sharing _your life with me - and letting me do the same. _That's _what I needed from you... And that's what you couldn't do."

He didn't say anything.

"If you had been the one potentially with cancer," she continued. "I would not have left your side. Even for a second."

The silence prickled in the dusk.

Finally he spoke. "All those things that you said are supposed to be 'relationship reflexes' - they don't come naturally to me. They weren't things I just _do _in relationship. To me, they were big deals. And the fact that they weren't to you was part of the problem."

"I'm sorry," she replied honestly. "I am."

"And I haven't changed that much," he went on. "If you're still looking for someone who's just going to instinctively _get _how to behave... Well, you have the wrong guy. I'll do my best to do better, but that doesn't mean I'll be perfect."

"I don't want perfect."

"You seemed to."

They held each other's gaze for a few seconds before she caved. "I've never been able to forget you. Ever. And I've never loved anyone like I love you. I was determined to having you and I together, just slotting into our lives at the time. That was wrong. I was so attached to my life back there - nothing could change. But now... my job bores me. My daughter's growing up. I don't need that life. I need the people who should be in it."

He stroked her face tenderly. "I would never have broken up with you."

"I know that."

They fell back into silence once more. House was trying to get the courage to just ask one question. He decided to go for it. "If I could have done one thing differently, what would it have been?"

She thought. "I just... wanted you to _talk _to me. I know that sounds really pathetic."

"It doesn't. You know I just don't know how."

She leant her head against him. "We could work on it?"

"Yeah." He absentmindedly ran his hand up and down her calf. "My turn."

She nodded. "Fine. Shoot. What would you have changed about me?"

He reclined pensively against the tree. She could see his eyes flickering, his internal debate. It made her uneasy; how many things was he considering? She kept her lips zipped.

"At the risk of sounding like a thirteen year old, I wish you'd... just let me be _me. _Not completely, all the time - I get that there are things that I must do for this to work that are against my nature. But... I'm not warm. I'm not loving. I'm not giving. I'd like to not have to pretend to be those things all the time. I can't live the rest of my life like I'm playing a part." He looked ashamed. She felt so sad for him; she reached over and kissed him.

"Okay. You're right."

"As always," he couldn't help but add, knowing what would come next.

"You're an ass," she smirked, slapping his arm lightly. "But a very cute ass at that."

"You think I've retained my boyish good looks?" He joked, flipping the little hair he had back melodramatically.

"Honestly?" She looked straight at him. "Being out here as done you well. Sure, you look older, but... you look really, really happy House. Sort of warm and... glowing," she finished with, stroking his cheek with one finger. "You've soaked up the sun."

He nodded. "I like that," he answered finally, as if he'd stumbled upon a great truth. "That's kind of what I was looking for when I found this place."

She propped herself up one arm. "How did you get here?"

He lay on his back and crossed his hands, placing them on his chest. "I _may _have found myself with a slight gambling/drinking/prostitute problem. I was broke, old and miserable. These guys just shoved me on the couch and got me up and about. They forced me into helping until I got another job - that's what spurred me to find the AV medical centre. They pulled me out of my rut."

Cuddy looked over to him shyly. "Are you the one who's going to pull me out of mine?"

The corner of his lip quirked up. "We'll have to wait and see."

However, as the pair settled into a comfortable silence, his fingers lightly brushing the back of palm, they both knew the real answer to that question: _I would pull you out of a rut if it meant pulling myself back in. _

* * *

><p>Patrick pulled Rachel down next to him in the hay in the barn, pressing a finger to her lips. "Ssh!" He warned, holding her behind him. They'd just snuck over to the neighbouring farm, several acres away, and stolen their neighbour's pride stallion for a ride. It was only a joke; Patrick had just wanted to ruffle his feathers. However, they'd since been caught and spent a fair amount of time sprinting across the fields away from the angry farmer.<p>

Hidden in the barn, they both took a moment to relax. "You're a good runner," Patrick commented, catching his breath.

"Thanks," Rachel panted, her lungs on fire. Truthfully, she'd been dying all the way through, but she hadn't wanted to seem lacking compared to his strong, runner's thighs. "That was so exciting."

He chuckled. "Rach, rach, rach... I have _so _much to show you," he muttered, looking down at her. He couldn't deny that she was a very beautiful girl. She had a strong jawline and long, soft, chocolate hair. Her eyes were a soft brown, warm and doe-like. As she smiled up at him, he knew that she was special. She was different. The way she spoke and thought about things was way beyond her years. She was spontaneous and compassionate like he'd never seen before.

"Show me something here," she whispered, reaching up and raking her hand through his hair. He bent down and kissed her gently. His lips pressed against hers as she leant backwards against the hay. Together, they fell down so he was lying on top of her, supporting himself by his defined arms. She was so hungry with need for him - she could feel it all the way through her body. She'd never felt like this before.

His tongue worked its way across her teeth and she finally got the big deal about kissing. How someone holding your head and touching your lips so tenderly with theirs could make your insides flip and your head rush. As his hand started to slide up her thigh her heart began to beat faster with desire. She wanted to hurry him along, but stopped herself. She was almost jittering with anticipation.

As his fingers tried to creep over her waistband, he pulled away from her. "Is this okay?" He asked breathlessly.

She smiled. "Yes."

"You sure?" He checked, eyeing her.

"Sure. I want this," she urged him. "I really do."

He smiled at her and she couldn't help but smile back. She'd never felt like this before. She'd never had a guy treat her this way. She thought of what her mother clearly had with House and felt confident that one day, with someone - whether it be Patrick or someone else - she could have that too.

* * *

><p>Some time later that pair exited the barn - Rachel beaming. He took her hand in his for a moment as they wandered out of the barn. "I really like you, Rach."<p>

She beamed. "I guess I like you too," she replied coyly. "Just a little."

He laughed and they entered into an easy conversation as they made their way idly back to the farmhouse, his arm wrapped intermittently around her shoulder. The jokes and laughs came freely and it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

Except, of course, they weren't. There were other people in the world, and, although they didn't know it, other people in that part of the farm. After they'd left the barn and made their way across one field, they entered into a beautiful green paddock lined with trees. They flirted continuously, unaware that Cuddy was watching their every move.

* * *

><p>Cuddy watched like a hawk as Patrick and her daughter walked together across the field. "I don't like that," she muttered darkly, catching House's attention. He sat up and followed her gaze, blinking in the sudden light.<p>

"You don't like what?" He clarified sleepily.

"That. Them." She pointed to the pair of them. "She's a kid. He's a grown man. I thought it was harmless crush, but I don't think that anymore."

House wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back so she was resting against his chest. "I wouldn't worry. He's a good guy. He gets plenty of girls as it is - the likelihood he's doing anything more than indulging her little fifteen year old fantasy is slim."

"Still." Cuddy pursed her lips. "I think I should talk to her."

"She'll just get mad," House warned, his voice taking on a sing-song quality.

"Then she gets mad," Cuddy shrugged. "House, I have to check. She's my baby. It's always been me and her."

The corner of his lip lifted. "Let me guess: unbreakable mother/daughter bond?"

She smirked. "Something like that."

House kept an eye on them as they climbed over the gate and started up the path to the house. Patrick reached round and grabbed her waist. She squealed. He kept tickling, his hands running all over her lithe body. He could practically _feel _the anger emanating out of Cuddy.

He'd seen the exchanges between the pair but he'd honestly thought it was mainly innocent. Although, he had to admit, he hadn't been looking too closely. His mind had been focused on Cuddy for the past month; any fledgling relationships between other members of the household had been pushed aside. The only reason he was now rethinking that view was the rage radiating from Cuddy.

She pointed at the two of them with vigour. "See! Look! That's _not _innocent." She shook her head. "Oh God... Why does she have to do this?"

House couldn't resist one gentle jibe. "Like mother like daughter," he teased.

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "Predictable. And wrong. I was eighteen. _An adult._"

"If anything is happening - and I'm not saying it is - I'm sure it's mutual."

"Well _clearly_," Cuddy scoffed. "She's practically _simpering _over him."

"Again, like mother like - "

"Oh _enough,_" she sighed. She turned to face House. "Will you talk to Patrick? Tell him to leave her alone?"

House exhaled. "Cud-_dy._"

"She's my _daughter, _House. I don't want him messing around with her. She's a kid. She's _fifteen._" Cuddy closed her eyes in frustration. "I've been so wrapped up in my own head since we got here. I just didn't see it."

She looked so stricken with worry that House decided to soothe her. "I'll talk to him," he agreed, brushing her hair off her shoulder and pressing a kiss to the newly tanned skin. "Don't you worry your pretty little head."

"Thank you," she replied softly, her eyes trained on the spot where Patrick and Rachel had been standing.

* * *

><p>Later that evening House entered the kitchen, searching for a suitable pre-dinner snack. However, much to his unhappiness, Patrick was grabbing a glass of water. He groaned internally. Yes, he'd told Cuddy that he'd talk to Patrick, but he hadn't specified <em>when. <em>Unfortunately, when seemed to be now.

"Hey, Pat," House started awkwardly, "do you have a sec?"

Patrick flipped around and leant against the counter. "Sure. What's up?"

House pulled out a chair and sat, running a hand through his hair. "Just... leave the jailbait alone, alright?"

Patrick frowned. "What?"

"Rachel. Cuddy's not a happy bunny with the two of you flirting."

Patrick downed the glass and then put it on the counter with far more force than necessary. "Come off it, House. I'm just being nice. _You _asked me to look out for her. Nothing's going on; I'm just trying to keep her amused while you and Lisa '_reconnect_.'"

"I'm not _blind,_" House chided. "Look, she's cute. Whatever. Don't mess around with her. You can get plenty of other girls."

"House!" Patrick fought. "_Nothing's __happening _between us."

House got up and prepared to leave the room. "Then make sure it stays that way - and makes Cuddy knows. I don't want to ruin this place for them." He turned toward the door and then whipped back round to Patrick. "If anything's happening between you two, and Cuddy wants to stay, you'll have to go."

Before Patrick could retaliate, House had hightailed it out of the kitchen and up to his room. He had a feeling that he hadn't been as forceful as Cuddy would've wanted. He hoped she'd appreciate that he didn't want to create a mountain out of a molehill (that was providing that nothing was happening between them). However, after that altercation, Patrick had been ruffled.

He'd have to stop Cuddy noticing or stop the two. He couldn't let her be driven away again.

* * *

><p>As the sun set, Cuddy entered hers and Rachel's bedroom. "Hey," she said softly, coming to sit on Rachel's bed. "You okay?"<p>

Rachel rolled over. "Yeah. I'm just tired. I had a busy day."

Cuddy kissed her daughter on the forehead. "Doing what?" She asked levelly, trying to segue neatly into the conversation she really wanted to have.

"We were messing about with the nearby farmer. Riding his horses and stuff," Rachel told her shortly, in typical teenager fashion.

"We?" Cuddy inquired.

"Me and Patrick."

Cuddy took a deep breath. "He's looking after you here?"

"Yep."

"And you like him?"

"Yep."

"And he's nice to you?"

"Yep."

"And - "

"Mom," Rachel interjected. "What's with the third degree?"

Cuddy smoothed the duvet. "It's just... I see the way you two interact. You guys clearly have fun together - I want to make sure that it's just that. Nothing more. Do you get what I'm saying?"

Rachel's features hardened. "Mom. Stop. You're imagining things."

"He's twenty five," Cuddy continued, her voice raising, "and you're fifteen."

"Yeah. I know. That's _why __- _"

"Oh cut the crap Rachel," Cuddy hissed. "I _know. _I was your age too once and I've had a crushes before. I can see it on your face. Stop lying to me."

Rachel sat up, shocked and affronted. "Fine. If you won't believe me - "

"You may think that he really likes you but I, promise you, normal twenty five year old's don't mess about with kids," Cuddy tried to explain fruitlessly.

"I'm not a kid!" Rachel exclaimed huffily. "And he _does _like me," she hissed, so no one else in the house could hear. "He said so."

Cuddy was momentarily panicked. "You two haven't...?" She asked tentatively, praying for a _no _answer.

"What? No! God, Mom..." Rachel sighed. "There's nothing there."

"Honey - "

"Look, you asked me. I told you the truth. What more do you want?"

"That's _not _the truth," Cuddy replied, exasperated. "No matter what he says to you, honey, he's using you. You're a beautiful girl, sweetheart. I don't want to see you get hurt. I love you too much for that."

"Mom - "

"Just _talk _to me!" Cuddy implored. "Tell me what's happening."

Rachel frowned, her eyes dark and stormy. "Don't pretend like you really mean it now. You were happy being with House so I made my own friend. Can't you see that I'm growing up too? You came here to find the man you love, and maybe there's something in the water, but perhaps I found a guy that I could one day love too! I'm not a little kid anymore, Mom."

Cuddy was stunned into silence. "You think you... _love _him?" She almost wanted a lie-down. This was so far out of hand.

Rachel looked embarrassed. "No. But, maybe, one day... I could. He's so lovely to me. He treats me like I'm an adult. Like what I say means something."

"I don't make you feel that way?" Cuddy asked.

"You're my Mom. Doesn't count," she mumbled.

Cuddy processed for a minute and then she shook her head. "Look, maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe... we should just go home. This place doesn't seem to be good for you. We can drive back tomorrow," she forced out, although it pained her. _She didn't want to leave House. _

"No," Rachel whined, almost in tears. "I like it here. Mom, no! I can make my own decisions! Don't you remember what wanting someone is like?"

"Honey, I know. I do. But... not like this. This can't end well."

"Ugh!" Rachel stood up and threw her pillow at her mother. "Just fuck off. I hate you." She let out another expletive and the stormed out of the room. Cuddy leapt off to follow. When she poked her head out of the door, House was leaning against his doorjamb.

"I take it that went well?" He asked innocently, with a hint of self-satisfaction.

"I knew it," Cuddy said, rubbing her hand across her forehead. "There is something. But I don't think I handled it very well. Did you talk to Patrick?"

House nodded. "He maintained that there was nothing."

"I have to find her," Cuddy shook her head. "I have to talk to her. I should be more sympathetic." She took off down the stairs and tore through the house. So far, each room was empty. The kitchen was just the same, but the back door was flung open.

"Shit," Cuddy whispered. She ran out of the door, barefoot, her hair whipping against her cheeks in the darkening evening. "Rachel? Rachel!"

There was no sound. Cuddy glanced back up to the house, and then back into the darkness, her heart racing.

"Rachel!"


	11. Chapter 11

For about the twentieth time since she'd started running, Rachel cursed herself for having run off without shoes on. The twigs and gravel speared her feet as she sprinted over them, causing her to wince every few seconds. She was already away from the main farmhouse and surrounding area when she slowed to a jog and curled behind a tree, pulling out the letter she'd grabbed off the table.

Patrick had told her recently that, although he stayed at the farmhouse most days, he technically didn't live there. He had a cabin a few miles away that was his legal residence. She grabbed the letter as she'd run off, hoping - correctly - that his real address would be on it. She had to hold the letter really close to her eyes so she could see. The sun has set; she hadn't realised how dark it was until she'd tried to read.

Her breathing rate had slowed, and now she finally stopped and thought about what she'd just done. She was now in the pitch black, in the middle of an unknown wood, searching for a house and man who didn't know she coming and therefore might not be there.

Something behind her moved and she whipped round in fear. She started to panic. She kept her eyes darting from point to point, but realistically there was dark everywhere. She took off at a sudden run, the letter clasped tightly in her hand and her eyes focused only in front of her.

* * *

><p>"Have you found her?" Cuddy shouted from upstairs.<p>

"No," Buck shouted back, all the way from the wine cellar. "Lisa, I don't think she's in the house."

Cuddy barrelled down the stairs and almost head butted House's chest. "We can't find her," she muttered, her breathing shallow. "She's run off in an area she doesn't know in the middle of the night." Her eyes widened and then filled with tears. "This is my fault," she whispered.

House wrapped an arm around her and kissed the top of her head. "She's a teenager. She's supposed to be crazy. You didn't cause this."

"I pushed her," Cuddy commiserated. "I should have known that she'd do something like this."

"She'll be fine," House tried, in vain, to convince her. "She'll be crouched under a tree a mile away, biding her time long enough to scare you for pissing her off."

Cuddy closed her eyes and pressed her forehead into his chest. "I hope so." She let out a shaky breath. "I was selfish in bringing her here. I did this totally for me. It's no wonder that she's pushing back."

"I know guilt is pretty much your go-to response," he drawled, "but you don't have to beat yourself up over every decision that you make. You don't only exist as a mother; you're allowed to make choices for you too."

She shook her head, exasperated. "I'm a mother _first._"

House didn't respond. He wasn't a father, nor did have anything inside him that could be, even tenuously, identified as paternal feelings. He didn't understand how she was feeling, so he chose to just say nothing rather than aggravate her (which would probably end up happening).

"Buck and Archer have gone to get the truck," he said instead. "They're going to patrol the streets looking for her."

"They won't find her if she's in the woods," Cuddy replied, chewing on her thumbnail.

"You don't know these two," House alternated. "I'd put my money on them."

Cuddy nodded and let out a long breath, closing her eyes and trying to still her rapidly beating heart. "Okay," she accepted. "Fine." She pulled herself out of his embrace and started across the room. "I'm going with them."

Buck came through from the kitchen to grab his jacket just as she revealed her plans. "Lisa, I don't think that that's a good idea," he said diplomatically. "Mothers tend not to be a help when searching for lost daughters."

"You can't stop me from coming," Cuddy told him, jutting out her chin defiantly.

Buck sighed. "No. I can't. But I can advise against it." He slipped on his jacket and moved toward her, placing a kind hand on her shoulder. "Stay here. If she comes back then you'll be here to get her, and we can reach you easily if anything happens."

"You could reach me better if I was in the car with you," she muttered.

Buck took her hand. "We'll find her for you. She can't have gone far, not on two feet."

Cuddy nodded infinitesimally. Buck turned around to meet Archer in the truck, leaving House and Cuddy alone. Before he could even leave the room though, Archer came in with a perplexed expression. "Lisa, there's someone here for you. Says he knows you. Well, more than just _knows _you. He says he's your fiancé."

Cuddy whipped round. "_What_?"

"That's what he said," Archer reiterated. "Look, I told him to wait outside for a minute. I'm going to go with Buck now. Let him in if you want... And if you don't, leave him out there and we'll deal with him when we get back." With Cuddy's infinitesimal nod he left so that it was just her and House in the kitchen once more.

House stepped forward, moving closer to Cuddy. "I thought you told him it was done?" He asked, his jaw setting into a hard line.

"I did," Cuddy responded immediately. Then she paused. "Well, I... left the ring and told him not to follow me. But that's clear enough, right?"

House rubbed his forehead with his thumb. "I guess you _could _have been a little more explicit..." As her expression changed to one of hurt, he hastily continued, "but he shouldn't have followed you." He blew out a breath. "Do you want to deal with this or shall I?"

"No," Cuddy jumped up. "No way are _you _talking to him."

"Who said anything about talking?" House answered. "My fists can do their thing without my lips ever parting."

"You are _not _turning this into a fight," she warned, though the pitch of her words was rising. "Rachel's missing, House. And I need to focus on finding her, not on the pair of you arguing or worse."

"Are _you _going to talk to him, then?" House said, his voice taking on an almost confrontational edge.

She sank onto a kitchen chair. "In a minute," she said quietly.

House laughed incredulously. "What's the matter with you?" He asked her, aggressively.

She looked up, wide-eyed and confused. "What? What's wrong with _me?_"

"You can't run away anymore!" House appeared livid. "He's _here. _You _can't _ignore him anymore. Go and _tell him - _in a way that I know you know how to pull off - how little you want to be with him or even see him. No doubt that _he _thinks that he can get you back and that you're just freaked by what happened, because domestic abuse doesn't _have _to be a big deal, or he can change, or whatever lame excuse he'll give and _you _need to tell him to back the fuck off. That it's over between you two."

She put her head in her hands. He sighed. "Are you scared?" He asked tentatively.

Cuddy head snapped up. "No," she replied, with such indignation that House could only assume she was lying.

He pulled the adjacent chair out roughly and sat beside her, taking her hand and rolling her smooth fingers between his own. "It's okay," he said awkwardly, his best attempt at consolation.

"I'm not scared that he'll hit me or anything." She spoke softly, face obscured by the evening shadows in the kitchen. "I'm just... _scared _to pop the bubble we've been living in for the last few weeks." She turned to face him and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. "You've been so good to me," she whispered. "I don't want anything to change."

"It doesn't have to," he murmured back, equally quietly. "Just tell him to go and be done with it."

The silence prickled in the darkening room. "I don't want to leave you," she said softly, right into his ear. A tingle ran down his spine.

"Who says you have to?"

"Lucas. Rachel. The world that keeps on turning despite my insistence that it's ground to halt for the past few weeks," she responded mindlessly.

"Lucas has no say over us. Rachel is still under your rule, and besides, she loves it here. And Cuddy..." He used one strong arm to pull her closer to him. "Screw the world. Pretend it's stopped. Life's too short."

"But - "

"No ifs, no buts," he interjected with finality. He cupped her cheeks with his hands. "If you want to be with me, we'll make it happen. I'm not saying how or where - but I'm saying I'll do it. This is one person telling another person that they'll stick with them from now on. Read into that what you will."

"So this is it, from now on," she checked.

"This is it."

She smiled. "You'll never know how happy I am that things worked out like this."

He smirked. "Ditto."

The moment was broken by the doorbell ringing, the audible sign of Lucas' frustration. As she got up to answer it, House called after her. "I'm with you on this. You kick his ass."

Cuddy nodded to herself from the hallway, took a deep breath, and opened the front door.

* * *

><p>At the sound of a frenetic knock on the door, Patrick hauled himself up from his spot in front of the TV and went to answer it. His surprise was clear as he saw Rachel on the other side. "Rach...?"<p>

"I know I shouldn't be here," she said immediately, pushing past him into the cabin and dropping her back onto the floor. "I know that this was a stupid idea and that I should probably just go home... But I didn't want to be there, with them. I wanted to be here with you." She shrugged and put on a hopeful smile. "So... here I am."

Patrick was just staring at her. "You do realise that House told me to back off, right? _I _told him there was nothing - and from now on, I intend there to be nothing. He was right. You're too young. And - "

"Don't let them bully you into this!" She shouted. "House and Mom are like ten years apart, but no one's telling them to leave each other alone."

"That's different..."

"It shouldn't be! Age is just a number. It doesn't mean anything..." She was getting shrill, clearly desperate for him to share her perspective.

He gave her a soft smile. "Why are you so determined for this to work out?" He asked gently. "You _are _young, and I say that to make you realise that you don't need this _right now. _There'll be plenty of guys - of all ages - who you'll date and kiss and whatever else. It doesn't _have _to be me - and given the stress that all of this is causing, I can't understand why you want it to be me so badly."

She pressed her lips together and huffed. "I just do," she muttered, a little petulantly.

"It's not a competition," he continued and at that she interrupted him.

"I know, I know, 'losing your virginity is not a race' blah blah. I've taken a health class - "

"I mean between you and your mom," he finished, leaving her stunned and speechless.

"That is the grossest thought ever," she finally said. "I'm not competing with my _mother. _We're not... like, _discussing... _why would you even _say _that?" She garbled, sounding a little distressed.

"You're only freaking out at that because you see that it makes sense," he said. "It's not _bad, _Rach. It's not a creepy, lifetime-movie-worthy story where the mom and daughter fight for the same guy or anything. It's just that she's come here and is all loved up in a way you've never seen her before, and you're jealous - which is fine - but you want some of that for yourself. So you're determined to be with me."

"If that _were _true - which it is _not - _is it really so bad?" She asked tentatively. "Does it matter _why _I want to be with you?"

He shrugged. "I guess not."

She looked so miserable in that moment that Patrick wanted to take back everything he'd said and kiss her. She rose and her gaze and meet his eyes. "Can I stay here tonight?" She asked, in a small voice.

"Of course you can," he replied softly, the corner of lip quirking up in a smile. "I'll get you a blanket for the couch."

* * *

><p>Cuddy pulled open the door and found herself face to face with Lucas. The awkward stare continued for a fair few moments, until she finally spoke. "Hi."<p>

Lucas smiled at that, and stepped forward to hug her. She stepped back. "Why are you here?" She asked whilst folding her arms over her chest.

"To take you home?" He replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Her eyes softened. He was so... open. "I'm not coming home," she told him, gently but firmly. "At least, not with you."

"Lisa I'm _sorry_," he said with enough sincerity that Cuddy believed him. "I was angry and impulsive but I've never regretted anything more in my life. I love you. We're meant to be together."

"Oh _God _no we're not," she sighed. "Lucas... I don't love you. And I'm sorry about that. But we're _not _meant to be. We're a terrible couple! And it's not about what you did - I just want to be here with... him, and not in Princeton with you. I'm sorry. But there really is nothing you can say to change my mind."

"Have you slept with him?" Lucas asked.

"That's really no concern of yours," she replied tightly.

"Did you everlove me?" He asked.

"Yeah," she told him, but her heart wasn't in it. He raised a skeptical eyebrow. "I did love you," she reiterated, a little more emphatically. "Just... never in the same way that I love him. I'm sorry. I'm sorry you came all this way just for me to send you home."

He scrubbed his face with his hands. "Lisa... You don't belong here. You're talking crazy. I understand that you can get a little bored so you thought you'd take a little trip to spice things up - but this isn't your home. You _have _to come home with me."

"I don't _have _to do anything," she answered, with a hard edge to her voice. "_You _hit me and that made me realise that I was miserable with you, miserable at work and generally disenfranchised from my life. So yeah, I left to 'spice things up'. It's my life - and I don't want you in it. _Leave._"

"We've between together for years. We're supposed to be getting married. You can't just tell me to leave and never come back."

"I can and I have," she stated matter-of-factly.

The silence hung in the air. Lucas was waiting for her to say something that would indicate that everything she'd just said was a lie and Cuddy was waiting for Lucas to say something that indicated that he'd accepted what she'd had said and was going to leave. Neither spoke.

They were still standing there a few moments laters when Archer and Buck pulled up in the truck. Cuddy's attention was immediately focused on them. "Did you find her?" She shouted. Before they could answer she'd pushed past Lucas and ran down to the truck.

"Not yet," Archer said carefully. Cuddy exhaled roughly, her distress evident. "We're still looking, we just wanted to quickly check that she wasn't back here before drove a little further away."

"What's going on?"

Cuddy jumped at Lucas' voice from behind her. "Uh, nothing," she said, flustered.

"Found who? Rachel?" The concern was clear in his voice.

Cuddy sighed. "She ran off a few hours ago."

"Well, you know, I am known for my finding skills..." Lucas drawled.

"Thanks but we've got it," Buck said shortly, recognising Cuddy's desire for him to not be involved.

He looked at the three of them. "I only want to help. I love the girl. I watched her grow up."

"You don't love her," Cuddy responded immediately.

"Why is that so hard for you to believe?" He asked incredulously.

"You're not her father," she said, by way of explanation.

"I'm the closest thing."

"She doesn't even like you!"

"Hey," Archer intervened. "If you two want to argue then that's fine but if you want us to find her then you need to shut up and cooperate."

Lucas nodded. "I want to help."

"Lisa? Have a problem with that?" Buck asked, raising an eyebrow at that.

"Does it matter? I want her found - if he wants to help, so be it," she acquiesced. After a communal nod was exchanged, Lucas made a move to climb into the backseat of the truck.

"Hey!"

"Oh God what now?" Archer groaned as House made his way down the driveway as quickly as he could. "House! What do you want?"

"If he's going then _I'm _going," House answered, getting in the other side.

As he sat, Lucas turned to him. "House," he nodded.

"Woman beater," House nodded back.

"Oh God," Cuddy said, scrubbing her face. "If you're both going then I'm coming too."

"Then no one's here if she comes back," Buck pointed out.

"Who's volunteering to stay?" Cuddy asked in response.

Silence.

"Alright then," she clapped. "Let's go."

Archer started the engine and pulled out into the road. "Are you guys just planning to... drive around?" Lucas said after a minute, clearly unimpressed with their teenager recovery skills or action plan.

House rolled his eyes and spoke before Lucas could provide his private detective expertise. "Has anyone called Patrick?" He felt Cuddy stiffen beside him. "You know she's probably gone straight to him."

"He didn't pick up," Buck answered.

"Why would he be busy?" Cuddy asked nervously.

"How far is it?" House asked.

"A good forty five minutes. She'd have made it already if she was running."

Archer picked up the pace as they sped along the dark road toward Patrick's. House took Cuddy's hand. "She'll be there. You know she will. She ran off to prove you wrong, not just to hide." She squeezed back and mouthed 'thank you' back to him.

The five of them settled into silence, trying to avoid letting the palpable awkwardness become to great to ignore.

* * *

><p>Patrick was drinking a beer on the porch when Rachel padded out through the front door. "Couldn't sleep," she muttered, sitting down beside him. He sipped his beer and didn't say anything. She took a deep breath and moved closer to him. "Even though we shouldn't... It doesn't mean you don't still want to..." She whispered into his ear.<p>

"Rachel..."

"You don't have to fight it," she said slowly, kissing his jaw.

Patrick didn't know if the two beers he'd had were affecting his judgement a little - but she seemed to be making a good point. Throwing the beer aside he turned and kissed her back. The voice in his head that was telling him how wrong this was was slowly getting quieter as the kiss deepened.

She made a move to pull him inside. He knew what would happen if they went back in. "Rach - "

"Please," she said, looking into his eyes. "I don't want to be a kid anymore."

He paused for a moment and then pressed a kiss to her lips. "Okay," he whispered and that was all the pair needed to stumble inside together.

* * *

><p>Rachel had her head lain on Patrick's chest with his hand stroking her arm. She was smiling lazily, the two curled up under the sheets. "That..." She muttered, kissing his chest. "That was amazing."<p>

He smirked. "I'm glad that you agree," he replied.

The two looked at each other, smiling conspiratorially, guarding their secret. "No has to find out," she said. "This can stay between us."

"I know," Patrick said. "This is just for us."

Then there was a knock at the door.


End file.
